Last Man on Earth
by seeing-is-believing
Summary: A Dark Curse is placed upon the Earth, bringing two unlikely survivors together to find a way to rid the Earth of the revenge of the Dark Lord.  A journey of discovery – in more way than just one. LM/HG
1. Apocalypse

_**A/N: **__This is a story I've been battling with for some time now. I thought of the idea a while ago and at first thought it would be stupid and unreal but after some serious thought and plotting I've decided to give it a go._

_Now I am warning you, this could either go really well or really bad but I hope that it will go well! I've never written Hermione and Lucius like this before so it will be fun to see what I can do. I hope everyone will enjoy it because it is _so_ different to what I usually write…_

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><p>::-::-:: <strong>Chapter 1<strong> ::-::-::

Hermione wished she was tucked up in the warm recesses of her bed with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and maybe a biscuit or two. She longed to be relaxing in front of the telly with a sleeping Crookshanks on her lap. Hell, she would even prefer to be eating a dozen Flobberworm fritters in Snapes classroom instead of what was actually happening at this moment! She would give anything to be anywhere other than where she was right now.

Currently, she was running on the cobbled path of Diagon Alley, much to her body's discontent. She prayed that her legs would carry her faster; if she could just get out of the openness of the street and hide in the confinement of a shop then she might just survive this.

No, she _would_ survive this! This twisted and uninviting situation was now reality and she would have to survive it one way or another, even if it meant that her heart might explode in the process. Barely a year ago she had fought in one of the Wizarding World's greatest battles and had survived it. If she had survived that then she could survive _this_.

Her heavy footsteps pounded in the depths of her dizzying head and she wondered if it was possible to die of a sheer lack of energy. The adrenaline had long run out and was now a pure desire to survive. Her calves and thighs were burning and aching with the need to stop but she would not slow down.

She _couldn't_ slow down.

She wanted to stop so badly, she really did. The thought of resting her lumbering legs and giving her burning lungs time to get back into a steady rhythm was so tempting but she knew she couldn't…

All the running seemed unavailing; she was wandless, having not had the sense to take it with her when she was fetching the milk from the doorstep. Inside, she was screaming at herself for being so stupid. If she had her wand she could have Apparated somewhere safe, or at least had a better chance at defending herself against _them_.

They were close now; the piercing cries and blood curdling roars was enough to know that they were following and if she stopped now she would undoubtedly be ripped to pieces and eaten alive.

That was not the death she had hoped for.

On what seemed to Hermione like another mundane day of bordering on the line of the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, she had opened the front door to an unholy silence. The Muggle neighbourhood she resided in was never that quiet but she doubted that anything was wrong.

Then she heard the screaming.

Snarls of hunger, sounding like something from a Muggle horror movie could suddenly be heard from all directions

But when she saw the cause of the diabolical noises, she could have sworn that her heart stopped beating.

The blood red eyes had stained her memories long after they had gone. The crimson liquid smeared around the creatures mouth was so vivid against the alabaster skin and Hermione knew it could be only one thing; _blood_.

How wrong Hermione was to think that nothing was the matter.

She had stood paralysed for only a few seconds before fleeing to the first place she could think of.

Ignoring the fact that her slippers might fly off her feet, she ran and she ran until she was in the familiar ambience of Diagon Alley.

But there was no one here either. That was, no one apart from _them_.

Looking back on it, she couldn't fathom how she had managed to get away from them unscathed and without her wand handy.

But it did not matter how she managed to, only that she did. That's all that counted now.

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><p>Lucius Malfoy inwardly cursed himself for being reduced to crouching on the ground and hiding under what once may have been called a table. <em>Like a Muggle<em>, he thought with criminal amounts of revulsion and his joints were stiff with being stuck in the same position for so long. But after coming face to face with one of _them _in his beautiful Manor in the countryside, he had panicked and apparated to the first place that jumped into his mind; Diagon Alley.

Truth be told, it was not the most likely of places, nor the most intelligent, he could have taken himself to but on a spur of the moment it was the best he could think of. It would have to do for now.

But that wasn't the only reasoning behind his whereabouts. If there were to be any survivors, and Lucius strongly suspected that if anyone would it would be a Magical person and not a Muggle, they would most likely be in Diagon Alley, he hoped.

He did not want to be alone right now, even if he was Lucius Malfoy.

As he adjusted his weight to make it fractionally comfier for himself, a loud and solid crash echoed through his ears, freezing his blood in instant panic.

Was it… _them?_

He knew that his make-do attempt at boarding up the remains of the shop up probably wouldn't have kept them out for that long but he had thought it would have been longer than this.

Keeping his wand painfully tight in his left hand, he crept out from his hiding place and rose to his full height.

His body cried for him to stretch out his weariness but he couldn't physically relax knowing that the creature of his potential demise was in the same surroundings as him.

He crept out of the room, gingerly avoiding a collision with any dismembered objects on the floor. The last thing he wanted to do was advertise his whereabouts.

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><p>Lost in the bloodied memories of her mind, Hermione failed to realise that she was no longer in the open air of Diagon Alley being chased by ravaged beasts but in the dilapidated remains of a shop. To her immediate relief, she was the only one in the threadbare building.<p>

Or so she thought.

Still dressed in her pyjamas, she leaned her aching body against the wall and slid all the way down to the floor.

Rest, at last.

Her breathing was still coming out in deep breaths of tiredness but it was nowhere near the same rushed pants she had experienced whilst running.

After a few moments rest, her heart rate had slowed down to something of a normal pace and she found herself regaining some lost energy. Despite the increased energy, her body still longed for rest and she couldn't help letting her eyes flutter shut against the darkness.

Settling against the wall in a more sleep succumbing position, she finally felt relaxed and let her mind wander into a dreamy world.

She was what Lucius might say; completely oblivious to anything.

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><p>This pitch black nothing was allowing for Lucius to see only an outline of something slumped against the wall and his wand was pressed so tight against his palm he was sure the snake's fangs were cutting into him.<p>

_Kill it, before it kills you!_ The darker corners of his mind were frantically commanding him, but he had to make sure that it wasn't a human. If he blew his chance of actually finding someone alive then he would never forgive himself and that was something Lucius Malfoy rarely did.

And when he heard a soft moan escape its lips the dead weight of dread surrounding him was abandoned.

This was no it. It was a _her_.

And she was alive.

Knowing it was not one of them and that it was definitely human, he shifted on feather light feet over to the lump on the floor.

What was the silly chit doing just resting? How _could_ she rest so easily knowing what was going on out there?

He wanted to kick her to wake her up, perhaps that would teach her to fall asleep when the world was possibly coming to an end.

_Pathetic little girl. _

But Lucius could not do that. He couldn't injure her when she might already be in pain.

_Good Merlin, what am I thinking? I was never so merciful before._ And indeed he wasn't, but all past beliefs and ideas were _only_ a thing of the past. They did not matter to Lucius anymore.

What had mattered to Lucius had been ripped away from him mercilessly...

He crouched down, outstretched his arms and grasped firmly.

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><p>Hermione was barely a few inches into her slumber when strong, large hands suddenly clamped around her waist and over her mouth.<p>

She tried to scream but the hand stopped any noise from escaping her mouth. Her arms and legs flailed around the try to push the creature away but she couldn't. She was simply too weak and tired to do anything.

_This is it,_ she thought. _It's going to kill me; I'm going to become this inhuman freaks breakfast._

And she waited for the sharp agony of teeth sinking into her flesh or the ripping of her limbs but there was nothing.

Nothing but strained breathing. Hers and whoever was holding onto her.

"Keep quiet you stupid girl!" A husky voice hissed in her ear, sending waves of shivers across her skin.

A voice! A man's voice! _A human voice!_ Her eyes flew open at the sound of it. She ignored the condescending words and forcefulness of the man whose arm was clamped around her; she did not even begin to think who the voice might belong to, only that she was in the presence of another human being.

And human he was indeed. She could feel the strength of his muscles through the thin layer of her pyjama top, the warmth of him radiating pleasantly onto her. The steady, yet accelerated thumps of his heart against her own chest.

A _live_ human. _Dear Merlin, thank you!_

She felt the assurance in her blood pumping all around her body along with a feeling of safety at being in this man's arms.

Whoever this man was, he would surely keep her safe and protected from the deathly beings outside the confinements of the walls.

"_Lumos_."

All courage dispersed and she felt her heart sink into her stomach when the wandlight illuminated the face of the last man she had expected to be trapped with.

_Lucius Malfoy._

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><p><em><strong>AN:**__ So there it is, the first chapter of this crazy story that I don't even know whether I should be uploading. Yes, it is a zombie story (well, kind of) and that may not appeal to everyone but there will be a reason behind the events later on._

_I can't say when updates will be due, because of my other story but I hope they will be regular. Chapters may not be too lengthy but I will try to make them as long as possible without horribly dragging everything out – I know that most people do prefer longer chapters._

_Reviews, comments and constructive criticism is welcome and very much appreciated. I really need to know whether anyone thinks this story is worth continuing because I'm really not sure about it. _

**REVIEW?**


	2. Confrontation

:-:-: **Chapter 2** :-:-:

It took a while longer for Lucius to register who the girl was than she did with him, but when he did finally realise who she was, he wondered if it was a blessing or a curse. The girl screaming and struggling in his arms was Hermione Granger. _The_ Hermione Granger, Potters little sidekick, the Mudblood who always bested his son in their classes.

The little _Know-It-All._

Yes, he remembered her very much so now. He remembered the swimming intimidation he had seen in her eyes as he had scorned her and her pathetic friends at the Quidditch World Cup. He could practically _smell_ the fear on her back then and he had taken extreme pride in knowing how much his looks could frighten someone so mercilessly.

He'd also tried to kill her before, _twice_, but perhaps that was best forgotten for the time being.

He had not set eyes upon her since that fateful day on the battlefield, and then it had only been vague glimpses, but from what he remembered, she had changed insubstantially, although Lucius hoped that she had grown more mature. The thought of having to put up with an irritant, hormonal teenager made him wonder if she was going to be worth the trouble.

A muffled shriek brought Lucius back to reality, or perhaps it was anything _but_ reality.

Lucius eyed the wriggling girl before him and felt annoyance growing deep within his stomach that was stronger than the acid in there too. _Of all the people to get stuck with…_ Why wouldn't she bloody stop trying to get away? He was quite clearly stronger than she was and her non-stop struggling was beginning to get on Lucius' nerves. He knew he could easily kill her and Hermione knew it too.

"For Merlins sake, girl, what don't you understand about keeping quiet?" She didn't stop. Her screams were still vibrating the palm of his hand which caused Lucius to roll his eyes in disbelief; the dumb girl just wasn't getting the message. What did she think he was going to do, kill her?

An unforgiving image crept into his head. An image of the same girl writhing on his floor as Bellatrix tortured her again and again, over and over. The screams she had let out that day could almost surpass the ones of the creatures outside.

If he said that he wanted to help her back then, he would be lying, for those were the days when he feared _his Lord_ and he wanted nothing but to keep his family safe. If losing a Mudblood was the price he had to pay for that then he wouldn't have cared.

But now the price he would have to pay for her death could be the end of him too and Lucius didn't want that… _just yet._

He shook her, assuming that the dizziness might be enough to make her shut up, but it had the complete opposite effect.

"Stop screaming and I will let go of you." His voice was dripping with acrimony. He smirked as he felt her tense in anxiety and was pleased that he made her feel this way. How he loved belittling people.

Hermione knew better than to ignore him. If she was honest, breathing was becoming difficult and she gladly wanted him to remove his hand.

As her screams eased, so did his hand and Hermione found herself gulping down huge intakes of air.

But she still couldn't fully calm down knowing that she was trapped inside the same room as someone who despised her with every inch of flesh. To her, Lucius Malfoy was the epitome everything she was against; a man who hated her for her blood and who believed nothing about the equality of mankind. No, he wouldn't care if she dropped down dead this instance, in fact he would probably be glad if she did; it would be a burden lifted from him.

He had tried to kill her countless times in the past and there was nothing stopping him from taking his wand, turning it on her and yelling _Avada Kedavra._ Or would he maybe _Crucio_ her for a little while, play with his food? That was, after all, how Death Eaters like to pass the time.

She could almost see the flash of green light reflect in her unseeing eyes.

Hermione weighed out her options; would it be better being outside with the ravenous monsters or stuck with _Lucius Malfoy_ for God knows how long? A painful death by cannibalistic savages or an equally painful death by an equally monstrous man?

But something deep inside her told Hermione he wasn't going to because Lucius Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater anymore. He had been redeemed in the eyes of the Wizarding world – no thanks to Harry.

She could still remember the _Daily Prophet _headline, _'Lucius Malfoy Free of All Charges!'_ or _Witch Weekly's _less than incentive rubric, _'Luscious Lucius Let Off!'_ which was topped off with a cheesy photograph of the blonde wizard that she wondered if he even knew existed?

Did that really count for anything though? Ex-Death Eater or not, he still, undoubtedly, despised Muggle-borns and maybe now after all those years of not being able to let off the steam of such beliefs he was going to use her? After all, they were alone and that meant no one could save her if he did decide to do something…

_Stop it!_ She inwardly scolded herself. The situation was already bad enough and having terrifying thoughts of Lucius Malfoy torturing her was not going to help either of them.

By now, she had decided that Lucius was the better option out of the two, if only by a minimal amount.

The room was lit up by only the fading blaze of Lucius' wand tip, illuminating the room with flickering and oblique shadows which only served to frighten Hermione more. She was silently praying that he would make it brighter but it was enough for Lucius. Too much, in fact.

Without speaking, Lucius flicked his wrist and there was instant darkness.

If the tension was there before it was now twice as much.

The man was making Hermione blush with a combined mixture of fear and embarrassment. She didn't need to see him to know that he would probably be flashing her a look of sheer hatred.

But then why did he save her from… _whatever_ was outside? The two of them were bitter enemies, even if they had barely ever muttered one word to each other prior to now. If Lucius really did hate her so much would he not have just left her outside to be ripped into bloody pieces?

Neither could see the other, but Hermione knew that she was being watched by steely, hawk-like eyes and she had to remind herself not to get worked up about it. That didn't stop her hands from quaking though.

Had Hermione been able to see through the pitch black her suspicions would have been confirmed. Lucius' mouth was set in a firm line as he absorbed the girl through his other senses. Her breathing was coming in short little pants, from which he assumed was the result of so much running and distress. The aroma of vanilla and honey mixed with an underlying scent of increasing amounts of sweat was notably strong to the point that he wasn't sure if he was contributing to this smell or not. Despite not actually touching her now he had witnessed the shaking as she had writhed within his arms only minutes ago and he assumed that she'd be doing the same right now. He was correct, of course.

He wasn't about to go and _taste_ the girl but he was sure that if he did then he would be rewarded with a strong dose of the essence of fear; whatever that may taste like.

He noticed something else too. It was something that he couldn't even be sure was correct but he had a concerning conception that he was right.

"Where's your wand?" He asked.

"I-I don't have it…" She croaked, her voice raspy from screaming. _He's not going to like that. _A worried voice in her mind told her.

It was correct. Lucius didn't like that _at all_ and he fought the urge to curse her there and then, deciding that having to carry an unconscious Mudblood would not be the most appropriate situation, but that didn't mean he could vent his anger in other ways.

He let a long and drawn out sigh from his clenched teeth. "You stupid girl! Why don't you have it?"

That was the second time he'd addressed Hermione as such. It may have been one up from 'Mudblood', she actually wondered why he had not called her that ghastly word yet, but Hermione wasn't just going to sit here and take his words like the 'stupid girl' he was implying.

"I'd prefer it, _Mr Malfoy_, if you could please refrain from calling me a 'stupid girl'. I'm anything but that and if you have the nerve to call me by that then I'll assume that your son is also stupid, as I recall _beating_ him in all my classes at Hogwarts."

She topped that off with a smirk that had the potential to rival the one that had been wiped off his face after her little recitation.

If the little chit thought she could speak to Lucius Malfoy like _that_ then she had another thing coming. How he longed to slap her for that little outburst, but he kept his feet rooted to where he stood, knowing that that wouldn't solve anything other than the offence he'd taken from her words.

How _dare_ she call his son _stupid!_

"Listen to me you insufferable little Mudblood, I may no longer be faithful to the Dark Lord or hold the same beliefs as I did before the war but let it be known that it only takes two small words for the life to be drained from you, so I suggest that you keep your mouth shut or you definitely won't make it out of this room alive!"

The bubble of fear in Hermione's stomach was now a violent whirlpool that threatened to spill out of her in choking sobs.

"Now," His voice was cold and insensitive; _just like the man he truly is._ "Perhaps you'd like to answer my previous question. _Where_ is your wand?"

"It's at home."

_Perfect. _A sardonic voice whispered in his head.

But she would need to get another wand. When or where from Lucius had no idea; they would have to tackle those complications as they came, for now they had to concentrate on getting out of their present predicament.

"We must get out of here. _Now_." Lucius voice was so dangerously low that it sent a sea of shivers down Hermione's spine.

But Hermione thought it was too soon to leave. If they had more people with them then they stood a better chance of survival. Didn't they?

"We should stay here and wait for more people." Hermione suggested calmly, but there were tell-tale signs of her quivering nerves.

Lucius almost laughed out loud. The girl wanted to stay _here, _where they weren't even safe, and wait for other people? Didn't she get it? There were no others, that is, unless you count the blood thirsty demons outside, which he doubted she did.

The girl really didn't understand a thing.

But he had made his decision and he didn't care what she had to say about it. He was getting them out of here whether that meant he had to drag her out by the mass of curls on her head.

"Miss Granger," he breathed out. "If we stay here for much longer we will die."

Hermione felt the tightness in her chest increase but she wouldn't succumb to hysterics, despite being exceedingly close to the edge. _We have to wait for others though…_

"No! We've stayed her for a while, a few more minutes just to make sure won't hurt us!"

"Keep your voice down!" He hissed in a whisper that contained more venom than a snake. In all honesty Hermione had barely spoken loudly before, but his austere tone frightened her and she subconsciously scooted her bottom backwards, scraping her back sharply against the wall.

She rubbed the tendrils of pain from her back and waited for an absolution from Lucius.

But it never came. There was nothing but silence for what seemed like eons.

It was broken by Hermione's timid voice. "Please put the light back on, I don't like the dark."

It was the darkness that was consuming Hermione's Gryffindor bravery and as much as Lucius didn't want to comply with her request, he had to admit that it was adding to an abundance of abhorrence.

He flourished his wand and there was a sudden light that once again caused those moving obscurations. It was fairly dim but it was enough. The last thing Lucius wanted was to draw more attention to them.

Hermione let out a weak: "Thank you." But she knew he didn't do it for her. Probably.

There was that detestable silence again.

She hated the silence almost as much as the deathly cries of those ghastly demons, speaking of which hadn't sounded since she'd been inside the room.

Was that a positive or negative? Hermione couldn't tell.

She gathered her dignity along with her remaining confidence and decided to risk asking Lucius a question.

"Mr Malfoy?" She asked, fractionally louder than before.

No answer.

_Perhaps he didn't hear?_ As if he didn't hear in _this_ silence!

"Mr Malfoy?"

Still, no answer. _Just be out with it, Hermione!_

"Mr Malfoy, please? What's happening?"

Lucius' face slackened. Well he may as well tell her, she'd probably get it out of him eventually. Besides, if they stood any chance at fixing this _hell_ then he'd need to tell her…

He sighed, a way to prepare himself for the girls possible onslaught.

Grey fused with brown as his eyes fell upon hers.

"This is the Dark Lords revenge." He admitted, coolly and perturbed.

The mention of his former _Master _sucked all the tenacity from Hermione. She was staring at him relentlessly, waiting for him to say something along the lines of _'Got you!'_ or _'Just kidding!', _but those words were never once passed between his thin lips.

He wasn't telling a lie.

But how did _he_ know that…?

Hermione was certain that she felt her hair crackle when she realised what this meant.

She stood up, level with him, even though she was at least a head shorter than his full height. But she'd feel less insecure if she was standing up with him.

"W-what are you… you mean you _knew_this would happen?" She spat at him, forgetting to be quiet as the rage built up inside.

Her cheeks were turning a mottled red with unreleased anger and she had to remind herself not to shout even louder, she didn't want to attract any unwanted company after all. As if Lucius wasn't already enough 'unwanted company' to Hermione though. If what he said was true then why had he not told anyone? What made him keep something that could destroy the world to _himself?_

_That pathetic, selfish, evil…_

Lucius tried not to drop his head to the floor and look like a coward as he answered but the Mudblood had a strange effect on him. One that he didn't like.

"Yes," His voice still held precise amounts of ease though. "I knew it would happen."

Lucius' decent into shame was not something he was familiar with in the slightest. In fact, he couldn't even recall a time when he had been ashamed of his actions, not even during his years spent as a Death Eater. He was entirely new to this degradation and he didn't like it.

But looking into the Mudbloods pleading eyes he couldn't help the new emotion from snaking through his dispassionate veins.

_When exactly did I become quite so pathetic?_ He asked himself.

Hermione felt as though she had been hit by something hard and heavy as his answer made its way and registered in her brain.

_He knew! That bastard knew and he did nothing to stop it!_

"_Y-you_... W-why... I-I, oh God..." Hermione couldn't speak. Indignation had consumed her entire being and transformed her speech to useless stuttering.

She should have known that _he_, _Lucius Malfoy_, would have something to do with _this!_

The ebbing of her anger was not retreating. She was breathing unhealthily fast. She needed air. She had to get out of there. Away from him. Now.

She stepped forward in what she thought was a threatening demeanour. "I have to go. I can't be here with you."

She'd not made even three steps before his heavy arm was draped around her midsection and squeezing tightly.

Hermione panicked and did the first thing that came to her mind. Her nails sunk into the pale flesh of his limb with as much power as she could muster. She dragged them downwards, painting five crimson lines onto the previously unmarred skin. He didn't let go however.

"Let me go!" She protested through strained breaths.

His previously unoccupied hand was now busy being pressed flat against Hermione's mouth.

The room became a dancing feud of light and dark as the wand that Lucius was clutching in his hand, the one that belonged to the arm that was wrapped around Hermione's waist, was forced in all different directions as she struggled against him.

What was it with her and thinking she could overpower him?

Hermione heard him growl into her ear and she ceased her struggling for a few short moments.

"You're not going anywhere. How long do you think you're going to last out there alone, wandless? You don't stand a chance and I am not going to be left on my own, do you understand me?"

The fear clenched Hermione hard around the heart and squeezed tightly. She could feel the panic rising high inside her and wished that he could have just left her to sleep. She just wanted to get out of here and be somewhere safe with her parents or Harry and Ron. Hermione had no idea of what might have happened to them but suddenly she felt very sick.

"You need me now and I... need you." He admitted as much as it pained him.

The light settled to a steady brightness as his movements stilled, along with her own.

"Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded tearfully and breathlessly with his hand still covering the lower half of her face.

She hated him but he was right. If she left him she would be completely on her own and despite the pure loatheness she felt for this man, she did need him. They both need each other.

"Good girl." She felt hot breath against her ear as the hand covering her mouth once again dropped. His other arm around her waist, however, did not move an inch, if anything it became more demanding.

Lucius snapped his head up to focus on his surroundings, for the screams had started again now and there was only one thing left to do.

Hermione could have sworn that she felt the heartbeats through his chest become heavier when the familiar strangled banshee screams could be heard once more. But she didn't dwell on this, being flush against Lucius Malfoy and being able to _hear_ his hammering heart was not something she ever imagined she would experience. But despite that, it wasn't as unpleasant as she might have once thought it would be.

"We're leaving this place right now." Lucius announced, but there was no need to warn her really, she was going with him no matter what.

"W-where are we going?" Hermione asked, her voice flushed with timidity.

"My Manor." Was Lucius' quick answer.

There was no chance for Hermione to protest against his choice. That was the last place she wanted to escape to; that house was the epitome of evil in her eyes. Malfoy Manor was a physical memory of the pain she had endured behind its walls.

And then they both span away from the darkness.

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><p><em><strong>AN: **__More explaining about 'the Dark Lords revenge' in the next chapter! ;)_

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, added to story alert, etc… Receiving the emails telling me that some people are actually interested in this story made my day! :) Thank you very much and I'd love to hear what you all think of this one. x_


	3. An Owed Explanation

**:-:-: Chapter 3 :-:-:**

The room they Apparated into was spacious, gorgeous, and alluring; everything she couldn't remember from her last visit. Hermione instantly felt more than one pair of eyes on her as multiple blondes from the many portraits hanging began scorning at her, almost copying the same look she was receiving from the blonde man holding onto her. She couldn't remember coming in this way last time, although, come to think of it, she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings last time. Their lives had been more important that night.

Lucius couldn't thank his ancestors enough for giving the girl decisive and threatening glances. He knew that it was making her feel uncomfortable and this only served to please him more. Why should he let her feel content when he most certainly wasn't? There was a short moments silence as Lucius carefully watched the girl in his arms. She wasn't struggling any longer, _thank God_, but she'd outstayed her welcome in his grip so he released her immediately. She fell forwards a few shaky steps, swaying like a defective pendulum before crashing to the ground in a very unceremonious style. Her face scrunched up in combined pain and shock.

Lucius sent Hermione the trademark Malfoy sneer, much like the one that was spread out in various places on the walls, and he did not offer her a helping hand. _She managed to get herself down there so she can get herself back up_, was Lucius' reasoning behind his less than courteous decision.

_No gracious hospitality for a guest in his home then? _Not that Hermione really cared. She wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even though that wasn't remotely desirable in their current circumstance. It was a truly horrifying to think that she'd been forced into this with someone she hated more than anyone in the world and, for now, there was no way of getting out of it.

The feeling was mutual between the two new companions.

Suddenly, there was a heated pain to her wrist as Lucius snatched it into his own hand and started to pull her out of the room. She wondered why he didn't simply Apparate them to wherever he was taking her but perhaps that was because you could only Apparate into certain parts of the house? Who knew? And she wasn't about to stop and ask him. Hermione also didn't bother to tell him that he was squeezing her wrist too hard. She figured that it was probably his intention to break it. Well, he may not have been crushing her bone but she was certain that tender strips of black and blue would appear in place of his hand.

Catching up with Lucius' long strides was difficult; he was so much bigger and stronger than Hermione and she'd still barely an ounce of energy left in her since her 'morning run' but there was no way he was going to slow down so she just had to force her legs into moving at his pace. Despite being rather uncomfortable, she was trying to absorb the exquisite interior. Huge, _huge_ rooms decorated from floor to ceiling with rich colours and finished with a dazzling gold, it reminded her greatly of the interior she had seen in St Pauls Cathedral when her parents had taken her there.

But the beautiful rooms weren't a big enough distraction from what was creeping out of the dark corners of her mind. With every intricately divine room she passed all Hermione could think about was when they would come to the room that she had almost been killed in…

Even now her dreams were still haunted with the oppressing screams of that poisonous woman, demanding to know what they'd allegedly taken; _"What did you and your friends take from my vault?"_ Hermione had told her that they'd taken nothing and that the sword they had was a fake but of course she hadn't believed it. _"I don't believe it!" _She had whispered dangerously low in Hermione's ear before she was twisting into unconsciousness with pain she'd never known before. Hermione still woke up at night with a face drenched with tears and sweat, as her dreams relieved what happened. She could never escape it.

But all that changed on one grim day, during the Battle of Hogwarts. Although, everything had felt slightly less grim when Molly Weasley had finally put an end to the '_bitch'_, as the Weasley matriarch had also put it. Despite not showing it at the time, Hermione's insides had glowed with delight and she'd wanted nothing more than to start chanting _"Ding Dong! The Witch is dead!" _at the top of her voice and move her feet in an overexcited tap dance.

Lucius turned Hermione into, yet again, another huge room but this one made her heart grow cold as if she had been submerged into an icy lake of cruel memories. The same pillars of harrowing grey stone, the same windows, ceiling, floor…

She was certain this was _the_ room.

"We're not in that part of the house." He simply told her, as if he was reading her thoughts, but it was really the tense that ripped through her that told him. He couldn't really blame her though; he'd received uncountable doses of the Cruciatus curse from Voldemort after returning from Azkaban, so he knew how much it could affect someone. Receiving those punishments had almost made him _desire_ to be back in Azkaban. He supposed she was reacting with reasonable fortitude.

Everlastingly long corridors and multiple flights of stairs later, they came to a large rectangular door, similar to many others they had passed on the way.

Curls bouncing, Hermione was forcefully pushed into a room where she once again lost her footing and landed on her backside with a noticeable "_Ow!_" What was it with this man and pushing her? Pushy people weren't literally meant to be _pushy_.

Crawling back up, Hermione eyed the man who had, unknowingly, saved her life. It was nothing like her childhood dreams in which an overly handsome young man would save her from falling to her tragic death from an impossibly high tower. No. This was nothing like her dreams. It certainly wasn't the same man she had expected.

She cast glances all around the room. The same furnishings and decorations were mostly the same as the rest of the house, with the exception of a mahogany four poster bed, cast in beautiful emerald quilts. Quite obviously, this was a bedroom. Was it spare? Draco's? She had no idea. However, it was the smell that told her that she could well be standing in Lucius Malfoy's bedroom. It was the same scent that she had involuntarily drifted into her nostrils when she had been pressed so close to him. It was an odour that she couldn't quite put her finger on, albeit a nice smell, but there was nothing that she could compare it to. For now, it would be the 'uniquely Lucius' smell, even if that did sound rather ludicrous.

Lucius watched Hermione as she looked at his room. Never before had a Mudblood set foot in his bedroom and the feeling was similar to that of being naked in a room full of people. Uncomfortable and miles away from your comfort zone.

Abandoning any attempt at making Hermione feel welcome in _his_ home, Lucius sent her a sour glance before he flopped onto the luxurious bed in an uncharacteristically-Malfoy manner, determined to sleep. It must have been just gone Ten in the morning, but Lucius so desperately needed rest and while his looks didn't suggest his age of forty-five, his body was certainly catching up with his age. God he needed a lie down.

Hermione couldn't believe what she had just seen. Lucius Malfoy had just literally _jumped_ onto the bed and was now in the process of comfily wrapping himself up in the vast amount of bed covers, as if building a cocoon to shield himself from everything that was happening. _Is he mad?_ _The whole world is coming to an abrupt end he just wants to sleep_? Although, Hermione's condescending thoughts may have been slightly hypocritical, as she was caught doing the same in the shop, she still couldn't believe what he was doing. He'd given away some knowledge of what was actually happening and they couldn't just lie around and do nothing!

After all, if Lucius did know about this then that meant they stood a shot at fixing it, didn't it?

Yes, Hermione was positive they could do _something _so she stormed over to Lucius with furious determination but stopped halfway when she remembered that he still had his wand and was probably now in the mood to use it on her.

"What are you doing?" Hermione announced to the blonde wizard. "You can't just do nothing about what's happening out there! We have to do something!"

_Shut up and go away,_ was what he desperately wanted to say but even he had been raised with manners. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Came his muffled reply, head buried deep into the pillows comforting softness. He ignored everything else she had said.

After noting his sarcasm, Hermione decided to just continue with the full walk to the bed and ripped the quilt away from him whilst glaring daggers that would have sliced his face into a million bloody shreds, had they not been metaphorical.

Lucius had no time to retort before the feisty Muggle-born was yelling at him. _The nerve of Mudbloods these days…_

Hermione ripped into him, not thinking for a second that he is still possible of doing unthinkable things to her. "You said you knew about this, you pretentious bastard, so do something about it!"

Lucius bolted upright, seething through his flared nostrils. His hands were dying to be wrapped around her delicate neck and squeezing any impudence, along with the life, out of her. _One day, Lucius, one day… _To control his urges, he dug his large hands underneath the blankets. It was probably best that way; after all, he didn't want to kill the girl, no matter how much he might have wanted to once before.

But that still didn't mean he could knock the courage out of her with his words.

"I'm grieving, Miss Granger." His eyes locked onto her own and caused sparks of fear to go off inside her. "Unless you want someone out there to be grieving for you as well, I would suggest silencing that impertinent tongue of yours."

Ignoring his comment showing that he was, indeed, capable of killing her, she found herself hanging onto the word 'grieving'. Grieving was something you did when someone had died. Surely Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be mourning over the people that had died by becoming those delirious demons dinner? Of course he wouldn't.

Then that meant only one thing…

Hermione felt her breathing become faster and she could hardly keep her feelings bottled up. Could it really be possible that Draco and Narcissa were… _dead?_

"They're dead?" She whispered and instantly his hands were out of the bedding and biting into her wrists, after deciding that the neck probably wasn't the best idea.

Hermione tried to pull away but, God how was it even possible for this man to be so strong? Her mind could only plead; _Let go, let go, let go!_

His short nails dug further into her skin as the grip become everlastingly tighter.

She could see the grey in his arctic eyes harden to a colour so dark it could almost be _black_. He pulled her closer to him and she almost fell forwards into his lap, but managed to stifle herself before letting such a manoeuvre happen.

"That's right, you ungrateful bitch!" He growled into her ear. "My family are _dead!_ And as it happens I'm feeling rather vengeful right now so getting on my bad side probably isn't the best suited idea."

He let go of her arms but still left evidence of his minor assault in the form of ten tiny half-moon indentions. Hermione stumbled backwards, almost allowing herself to trip over _again_, but she managed to catch herself before the clumsiness took over.

"I-I'm sorry." She stuttered. And truly she was. Whilst the Malfoy matriarch and son had never been in her most favoured books, she owed Narcissa deeply for saving Harry's life and Draco, she admitted, had become slightly more amiable after the War. She would never have wished this upon anyone, not even Lucius Malfoy.

"I don't need your sympathy."

"But-"

"Don't talk to me, Mudblood." He condemned, head flopping back onto the jade green pillow.

Hermione was taken aback by his comment and retreated to a chair in the corner of the room, where she plonked her already sore bottom down onto the luxury seat.

She couldn't quite understand Lucius' sudden outburst but then came to realise that he was very much grief-stricken. She concluded that he really must have loved his family, despite that she couldn't remember ever seeing him show any kind of genuine affection towards either his son or wife.

Maybe she even felt some remorse for him…

Before long she too found herself caught up in the grief and slowly lay back to rest her head onto the chair and joined Lucius in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Lucius sat up, scanning the room and shaking away the last tendrils of sleep. It was still light, so he mustn't have been asleep for that long, an hour or two at the most?<p>

His eyes fell upon the sleeping girl, curled up on _his_ chair like some damn feline. Actually, no, he was glad that she'd chosen the chair because there was no way he would have let her share his bed! _The day I will share a bed with a Mudblood is the day the world will end. _The cool waves of triumph that washed over him at his thought soon perished as he realised how pathetically ironic it was. Thank Merlin he hadn't said it out loud!

He looked back to Hermione. Should he wake her up? She'd seemed rather determined to stop this earlier and had rudely torn the bed covers away from him to get him to do something and now _she_ was sleeping? When one desires something, one stops at nothing to get it. _Well,_ he thought, _she couldn't have done anything because I've not told her anything yet._

He hated to admit it but she was right. They _did_ need to do something to sort this out, and he was sure they could, even with his limited information.

But he had nothing to live for anymore. Draco and Narcissa were gone; they would never come back, _ever._ His son had been the one of the only reasons for living after the devastation of the War. Lucius had grown to show more affection towards him and never to take his heir for granted again. Narcissa was his second anchor that kept him rooted to the Earth. While they had never been in love, he had come to care for her and he deeply respected her for what she did during the War. She'd saved him, as well as Potter that day. He supposed the only 'love' they had was that of friendship. They were better as friends than husband and wife but that made her loss no less devastating.

But now his two reasons for living were gone. He'd always believed that if something ever happened to those two then he would want to be with them, whether that be in death or not. But then why hadn't he already done it? What anchor was keeping him here now?

Lucius didn't know.

"What happened to them?" A soft voice suddenly came from behind him. _The girl._ He hadn't even heard, or seen, her get up. But he did hear how her voice was considerably quieter than it had been before and there was that slight quiver to it; had she been crying?

He knew that by 'them' she was referring to Draco and Narcissa and he would tell her, but first, he needed to tell her about what was happening.

"I have to explain something to you first. Do you think you'll let me do it without pestering me for more answers? What I'm about to tell you is truly _all_ I know."

Hermione nodded, although she couldn't exactly promise not to ask anything, she _was_ a know-it-all.

After a few deep, but subtle, intakes of breath Lucius was ready. "The Dark Lord decided that if he was to be killed by Potter then he would need to come up with a plan that would still allow him to conquer the world. He may have never appeared to doubt that he would lose but I think we all knew that deep down he would."

Hermione remembered how Harry had said that Voldemort had been angry and scared when he'd found out that they'd been destroying Horcruxes. That meant he must have been worried that he would lose.

She had no time to think about the past for long, as Lucius went on. "There is a dark curse and when I say dark, I mean _very_ dark, that causes the people he selects to become these cannibalistic… monsters. By that I mean the different blood groups. He chose the Muggles, Squibs and Muggle-borns. So any Purebloods and Half-bloods would be unchanged."

Lucius sighed, his mouth filling with the sickly taste of hopelessness and regret. "That's all I know."

Hermione was having a hard time processing Lucius' words. He'd said that Muggle-borns were supposed to be like _them_, so why wasn't she one? There was no denying that she wasn't a Mugge-born, it was a little too obvious that she was, but then why hadn't she changed?

Unless, _oh God_, she was going to become one… Hermione could feel hot bile rise to her throat. Being one of them would be worse than being eaten by one, she couldn't become one, she just _couldn't!_

"Why am I still the same?" She quickly asked.

Lucius shook his head. Did that mean he didn't know? Or was he trying to tell her what she feared the most?

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I should go." Hermione's curls fell in front of her face, covering the river of tears that were flooding her flushed cheeks. She sniffed. "If I turn into one of them then I might do something to you, you're risking your life by having me here."

_No!_ He couldn't let her go! He would be… alone if she went. Besides, Lucius knew she was probably talking nonsense. There must be a reason why she didn't change, the only thing was, he didn't know _what_.

"You don't need to apologize or leave. _I_ brought you here and I'm fully aware of the," Lucius swallowed hard. "Threat you may or may not pose. I don't think that you are going to change into one of them, it would have happened already otherwise."

_But he doesn't know that! I could turn into one of them at any moment…_

Lucius could sense that she didn't believe him.

"Look at me." He commanded and she was too frightened not to do as he told. She raised her head to look at him, the tear tracks glistening in the light. "Nothing is going to happen to you, okay?"

She looked down again and this time Lucius lifted her chin up for her, not caring in the slightest about who he was touching.

"Okay?" He asked again. He desperately needed an answer of some sort. She would be like this all the time if she thought she was going to be changed, and he really didn't want that.

She nodded.

"Good." He whispered as he let go of her chin and she let her face slip downwards ever so slightly. It was still enough to see him, though.

"Why did you not tell anyone about it?" She asked, now she was the one who needed an answer from him.

"I assumed that the curse would occur the second he lost and so when it didn't I began to doubt that he had been successful in casting it. That is why I didn't tell anyone. And my God do I wish I had now."

Hermione didn't doubt that he was lying, even if that had been his specialty in the past. But there was something genuine in his tone of voice and she just had a feeling that this was the truth. Even if feelings weren't always the best things to follow…

"Are you going to tell me what happened to your family?" She asked so softly it was scarcely audible. She was wary that he might become aggressive again but he didn't this time. Maybe it would do him good to get it off his chest?

Lucius took a cool intake of air, whistling it back through his nostrils. Really, it was the last thing he wanted to tell her about but he felt he had to tell _someone_, whether this person was Hermione Granger, it didn't matter to him anymore.

He was quiet for a long time and kept still, staring only at his hands. Hermione understood that maybe he didn't want to talk about it and she wasn't going to nag him for the story.

She felt glad when she heard his unexpected voice, though she could tell it was hard for him. "We have – _had_ – a Squib housekeeper, seeing as House Elves were not allowed for us any longer and obviously she became one of _them_. When I woke up this morning I could hear Narcissa's screams but before I got to her she'd stopped. I found Draco just outside his room." He paused, the fiddling of the bed sheet in his hands increased. "They were… they were both unrecognisable."

Hermione couldn't fathom why he had employed a Squib if he knew what would happen. She was tempted to ask him but thought that might sound insensitive. He had mentioned that he didn't know if it was even going to happen let alone when so eventually came to understand that he would have employed this person.

"It tried to get me as well but I killed it."

He no longer saw the thing that had killed his family as a 'her'; it was now 'it'. That showed that he really must have cared for his family; something Hermione also couldn't get over.

Before Hermione could stop herself, her own hand was reaching out to take hold of _Lucius'. _His eyelids fluttered shut at the brief brush of her hand against his. Her hands were so delicate and… soft. It didn't escape Hermione's notice how he visibly tensed as she gripped his hand further.

Lucius reopened his eyes to find himself looking directly into Hermione's. They still held hands.

"I know that you probably don't care much for what I have to say," He raised an eyebrow. "But I really am sorry about what happened and I know that they would have wanted you to stop this."

They remained connected at the hands for only a few more seconds before Lucius pulled his away, causing Hermione to frown slightly. When Lucius stood up and began to walk towards the door she understood that her attempt to make him feel better probably hadn't worked.

As Lucius swung the door open, Hermione looked at him. "Where are you going?" She asked, curious but also nervous at his sudden hastiness.

He merely shrugged at her. And wait, was that a grin? "Didn't you say that we needed to sort this out?"

She saw the newfound determination glisten in his eyes and couldn't help but smile, at long last the man had come to his senses! They may actually now stand a chance at ridding the world of this God awful evil.

She quickly rose to her feet and, side by side, the two of them embarked on their journey to save the world.

First stop; Malfoy Manor library.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ The last line is a bit cheesy, but hey, I liked it :)_

_I hope I explained the revenge thing well. Some of you may notice a few flaws in it at the moment so don't think 'well then surely that would mean blah blah…' or 'how does that make sense?' because (I hope!) the rest will be explained in the next chapter and some aspects much further into the story – pinky promise! Nonetheless, if anyone is still confused about some aspects then don't hesitate to send me a message and I'll explain and try to sort it out! :)_

_If anyone is reading this story and is also reading my other story 'Taken' then here's a bit of an update about it. At the moment I just feel really uninspired to do anything with it – that does not mean that I will stop writing it altogether because I promise I won't! I guess I just needed a little break from it, which is partly why I started writing this story. I'm sorry about the time it's taken to update and as soon as I get out of this sort of 'coma' I will return to it immediately. Apologies x _


	4. Books, Books And More Books

**:-:-: Chapter 4 :-:-:**

Hermione's mouth had become a huge gaping hole the moment she had taken her first steps into the library. Part of her had always wondered what Malfoy Manor's library would look like. She'd imagined it smaller, although not by much and she hadn't realised the shelves would be so high. They extended from the floor to the ceiling, and it was a _very_ high ceiling, and each one was overcrowded with books! Never in her life had she come across so many!

Hermione was in her biggest dream, well perhaps, if you cut out the part about the deadly creatures and that she was stuck with Lucius Malfoy.

Where the hell were they going to start? And what exactly _were_ they looking for?

Hermione was sure that it was something dark but it was rumoured that a lot of the Malfoy's dark possessions were confiscated after the war, so how were they going to find anything. But of course Lucius Malfoy would have weaselled his way out of giving everything up, wouldn't he?

Lucius left Hermione gawking up at all the books, staring at them as if she'd never seen one in the whole of her life, which considering her being a Know-It-All, was fairly unlikely. He took steps towards an old, but neat desk and slid the draw open. He rummaged through the unkempt contents until his hand collided with the thing he was looking for.

He pulled it out, re-shut the draw and paced back towards Hermione, who was _still _ogling at the books. _God, she's like a dog in heat that prefers books to men,_ he thought sarcastically.

"Here, I have something for you." Lucius placed a long, thin piece of wood in her hand. _A wand!_ "It's nothing special but you need one. Perhaps it will teach you to take your wand with you wherever you go in the future."

Giving her the wand was a hard decision for Lucius. Part of him still believed that she didn't deserve one, but he wouldn't let his old ways come between them. He still didn't want to give it to her but in the end decided that it was most the sensible idea.

"Yes," her eyes ran from tip to base of her 'new' wand. "Thank you." It was a ghastly colour, not the same light vine wood she was used to, but a sickly dark brown.

Hermione twiddled the wand between thumb and forefinger, revelling in the sensation of the cold wood against her fingertips. It was much thinner than her previous wand and it felt as if something was missing but despite its faults, the familiar feeling of having a wand in her hand was nice. She was really grateful that Lucius has given it to her; it can't have been that easy to give a wand to someone he doesn't really believe should own one.

"What are we looking for?" She asked, eager to start reading.

"A curse book."

"What's it called?"

"No idea."

_Great,_ she heeded, _we don't even know the name of the book or the curse or anything!_ Hermione decided that this called for some magic; time to test her new wand.

"_Accio curse books._" She said, clear and emphatically, loving the feeling of the magic extending down her arm and out of the tip of the wand. _Perhaps this wand isn't as bad as it looks._

But as the summoning spell had barely left her mouth, there was a rumbling that shook the entire room and suddenly books were flying towards Hermione from all directions and in all different shapes and sizes. Barely managing to dodge the scattering books, they piled at Hermione's feet in a haphazard heap that seemed to have no starting or ending point.

Hermione sent an awestruck glare to Lucius. "You could have warned me!" She chided as she stepped away from all the books, almost tripping on the larger ones.

Was she blaming _him_ for _her_ mistake? "How could I have warned you? I didn't know you were going to summon _all_ the curse books. I was a Death Eater; did it not occur to you that there might be more than just one or two curse books?"

If Hermione was honest then no, the thought hadn't occurred to her, but she was not going to tell him that. "Oh, never mind that! What are we going to do about actually finding the book though? There must be over a thousand, we can't go through every one!"

"Well if we have to do that, we will."

What? No, he couldn't be serious? As much as Hermione loved reading, this was too much! It would probably take them a month! There had to be a simpler way than reading that many books, didn't there?

Hermione stared at him wide eyed, expecting him to suggest another way.

"Let's try this." Lucius said as he took many steps back, away from the gargantuan pile of books, pulling Hermione back with him. When they were at least ten feet away he tried another summoning charm, this time being a little less vague as Hermione. "_Accio dark curse books."_

There was another rumble that shook the other many books on the shelves, but the intensity was not as abundant as it had been before. Still, various books from the pile that Hermione had made began shooting out from various placed and made a fairly tidy pile before their feet. The pile was considerably smaller than the other, but Hermione calculated that there were still hundreds of them. She'd never hated books so much in her life as she did at that moment.

Her eyes widened at all the books, each and every one containing frightening elements of Dark Magic. Hermione had never seen so many in her life and she couldn't help a gasp as before them lay books that had the power to destroy the world, not that they needed to do that, it was already happening!

So they'd managed to downsize the original pile, was there a way they could do the same with this one?

Lucius re-aimed his wand at the second pile, and murmured another charm. "_Accio extremely dark curse books."_

Another mountain piled next to the previous, but to both Lucius and Hermione's relief, this one consisted of around fifteen or twenty books. However, much to Hermione's chagrin, each one was at least five hundred pages long and although she couldn't be sure, she had a bad feeling that the words were going to be _very_ small. _Perfect_, she thought.

She exhaled and turned to Lucius. "What now?"

"We read."

* * *

><p>Hermione turned to the next page of her fourth book, making sure that she was thoroughly checking everything she was reading. After Lucius had scolded her the second time for skipping through huge chunks, she'd made sure to look through <em>each<em> page. He'd told her that they couldn't afford to be brief and that everything needed to be looked over.

It was a tedious job. Her fingers were sore and bleeding from paper cuts and she desperately needed to use the loo, but Lucius had also said that they weren't leaving until they had found what they were looking for; even if they still didn't know what that was.

Hermione loved books, she really did, but these were just sick. That's the only word she could use to describe the particular one she was reading. Why Lucius would want to keep a book showing graphic illustrations of the various results of 'Extremely Dark Sexual Curses' was beyond her. She also wondered why she had to have picked this book out of the remainders in the first place!

After she turned yet another page, her face set into a grimace at the sight she was welcomed with, she couldn't help but to voice her disgust. "Now that is just disgusting." She involuntarily let out, catching Lucius' attention.

"What is?" He asked, looking up at Hermione who looked sickly pale at whatever she was looking at. He understood how she was feeling though; his book about a deadly curse that slowly consumes human flesh like maggots wasn't too appealing either. But they had to be searched and if that meant looking at or reading about foul curses then so be it.

Hermione held the book up to him, showing a moving photograph of a man who had been cursed with the 'Anus Reversing Curse', which, as you could imagine, forces your anus to be literally turned inside out. It really did look horrific. And that wasn't even the worst thing that Hermione had seen.

After noting Lucius eyes widen at the vile image before him, she slammed the book shut and dropped it on the floor, earning a devious glare from Lucius. "This book doesn't seem like an 'extremely dark curse book'," she remembered his specific wording from earlier. "It just seems dirty."

"Perhaps," he announced, turning back to his own book. "But the reason that book is in this pile is because the curses are mostly irreversible and anyone who is unlucky enough to be cursed with them will most likely die. Therefore they are extremely dark and deadly."

Maybe, but they obviously had nothing to do with what had happened to the humans and Hermione didn't think she could stomach having to look through the rest of it. Some of the things she'd read about were enough to scar her for the rest of her life.

_Hang on,_ something clicked in Hermione's head, _how does he know that?_ He could only know unless he'd read it before…

"So you've read this book before then?" She questioned him, sounding like her pushy self again. It was almost like how she used to speak to Ron.

"Yes I have." He told her matter-of-factly, still not tearing his gaze away from the book he was reading.

"Why am I reading it if you've already read it?" She huffed and dropped her hands onto her thighs in frustration. "For God's sake, you could have told me!"

Lucius sniggered, earning a scowl from the flustered girl who sat angrily with her arms folded against her chest.

This time he looked up at her. "I _was_ going to tell you but then I noticed how engrossed you were and thought you might be enjoying yourself. I saw your blushes Miss Granger. All five of them."

_What? _Hermione didn't know what to be more disgusted by. First, she had by no means been 'engrossed' with that book, grossed out, maybe, but not engrossed. It was disgusting. And second, the fact that he'd noticed her blushing, which she hadn't even been aware of herself, obviously suggested that he had been watching her… Why?

"It's okay, you know?" Lucius said as he cut through her thoughts like a knife.

She snapped her head up and asked sharply; "What is?"

"If you're a prude." This time Hermione knew she was blushing, her face was as hot as an oven and she didn't need to see it to know that it was tomato red.

Lucius smirked in delight at her naivety. Could it be that Miss Hermione 'Know-It-All' Granger the irritating little war hero was also a _virginal_ Miss Hermione 'Know-It-All' Granger the irritating little war hero?

He saw her blush deeply again. _Why yes, she is indeed virginal._

"I'm not!" Her shaking hands snatched up the next book and she began speedily moving her eyes across the tiny scribble. "We have… lots of work to do…"

_Oh no she doesn't! _"No you don't." He leaned towards her and plucked the book away, unwilling to let her escape this topic. They did need to work but seeing her blushing and embarrassed like that was too much of a distraction, besides, it was more fun than reading. "Admit that you are a prude and you may have the book back."

Lucius laughed at her narrow eyed response. This was fun indeed.

Hermione turned an even deeper shade of crimson, the humility was too much. How dare he have the nerve to call her a prude! Just because she'd not had a boyfriend since… she didn't even know when, or just because she may have never done certain… bedroom activities did not mean she was a prude and she was damned if she was going to admit it to him!

"I'm not going to admit that because it isn't true!" Oh but Lucius knew it was very much the truth. "Now give me that book so we can get on with actually trying to do something useful!"

"Very well," He gave her the book back and she buried her head deep inside it the second it reached her hands, hoping that it would hide her tomato red face. "But don't you think we could make this situation a little more… _fun_."

_F-fun? _Did he mean he and her should…? _Oh God_, she felt her face turn a few degrees hotter. Hermione did not want to think about _that._

"How could you suggest something like that when the world is in a disaster? People are dying out there and we need to think about something other than well… _you know." _

"Do I?" Of course he knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear her say it first and so he continued to make his face look genuinely clueless. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Miss Granger, could you explain it to me, perhaps?"

"I-I…" The room suddenly began to feel a little too heated for Hermione. No. She would not explain it to him. He knew full well what she meant and if he really didn't know, which she doubted wasn't the truth, then he would have to guess for himself. He was only trying to intimidate her and she would not let it progress even further than it already had. "We don't have time to… mess around."

"Oh, so that's what you call it?" His lips twitched at the corners.

Hermione ignored his crude remark and got back to work. They'd spared enough time already.

And with that, Lucius turned back to his book and continued with his research, the whole time doing it with a scheming grin. That was enough fun, _for now._

* * *

><p>Hermione opened her mouth to let out an exhausted yawn, followed by a deep sigh. She was still bored, still had tender fingers and still needed to use the toilet, only now she had hunger to add to that list. But Lucius wouldn't let her tend to any of her problems until they had gotten through all the books.<p>

And there were still four to go.

It was a never-ending cycle of boredom for Hermione. With each passing minute she felt herself growing more tired and her head was spinning with words that didn't even make sense to her anymore. She must have read at least five thousand pages by now and it was all the same nonsense, mostly. It was all deadly curses and counter-curses, with the exception of the 'sexual' curses. She reminded herself never to look at _that_ book again. It had doled out enough discountenance for today.

Hermione shuffled in her position on the hard floor, her bottom had gone numb and sore from sitting like that for so long, but she didn't mind much. At least the movement was a distraction from staring at books.

She looked over to Lucius. A few irregular tendrils of his silvery blonde hair had fallen in front of his eyes, shielding most of his face from her. Not that Hermione wanted to see his face, but if she had, she would have seen nothing but pure concentration etched across it. He may have made wrong choices in the past but she couldn't deny that he was a hard worker.

He hadn't hushed a word since their last conversation and neither had she and what a weird conversation that had been. Hermione placed a palm to her cheek and was sure that she could still feel the remainder of her blush.

The bastard had known that there wasn't anything about the curse they were looking for in that book but he hadn't told her that! She had flicked through the disturbing pages of that book for a good hour and he'd said nothing! Then he went and called her a prude!

_I'll get him back, when he least suspects it… _The words danced in her mind like some crazed serial killers threat. The smile that was curled across her lips at the thought had now gone when she started to ask Lucius something that kept crossing her mind.

"Can I ask you something?" She broke through the libraries silence.

"If you must." Lucius answered casually as his eyes glanced from her back to the book.

She thought it was rude that he wasn't even looking at her as she spoke but then again, he was _Lucius Malfoy._ "Why were Purebloods and Half-bloods spared from this curse when they would probably all eventually be hunted down by the monsters anyway? It just doesn't make sense to me."

Lucius laughed and countered, "Did any of the Dark Lords ideas make sense to anyone?" His eyes now rose from the book.

"Obviously they did to you seeing as you were his follower." She drew her arms around herself and bit back with defiance.

"Perhaps they did once." Lucius retorted with a truthful, light shrug. The Dark Lord meant nothing to him anymore, absolutely _nothing_. "As for your question, I suspect Purebloods were spared because of the Dark Lords obsession with blood purity. That would have ensured that most Death Eaters would survive seeing how nearly all were Pureblood so perhaps he meant for the Death Eaters to rein some control over the creatures?"

"You seem to know more than you're letting on."

And indeed it did sound like that, but would they be sitting here searching through Dark magic books if that was so? No.

"I assure you that I do not know any more than I've already told you. I'm rather intelligent as it happens, Miss Granger, and I tend to speculate on matters more than I perhaps should." When he saw Hermione's surprised look, he added "Something you're guilty of, I'm sure?"

She gave him a small, dainty smile that she couldn't have resisted no matter how hard she tried. "So what about the Half-bloods?" She asked, her smile disappearing and turning into a serious frown.

"I'm not sure." He sighed, leaning back to aid his stiff neck that had been bent downwards for nearly five hours. Gods Lucius couldn't wait to find that book. The sooner, the better. It meant that they might be able to do something about the curse and if not then it meant that if they did die, at least they would die knowing they tried to do something to help. He wouldn't be dying with a completely guilty conscience.

But they weren't going to die. He was positive that this would be broken soon. The Dark Lord had already taken over the majority of Lucius' life; he was not going to let him take away the remainder.

"If the he still wanted the Death Eaters to rule, then how do they manage to get out of Azkaban? Most of them are either locked up there or dead."

_Damn does this girl ever stop asking questions? _Apparently not. Lucius used his aching brain to think long and hard about what she'd asked. She had a very fair point. There were no Dementors guarding Azkaban anymore, so them aiding the prisoners escape was out of the question. If any of the guards had been Muggle-born then they would most likely have been changed, which could possibly mean that they had attacked and killed some of the prisoners. Lucius prayed that's what happened. If, somehow, a few ex-Death Eaters did manage to escape then he and Hermione would be in an even deeper hole then they were now.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer your question, Miss Granger. We just have to pray that none of my old… _colleagues_ end up in England."

Hermione silently agreed. That would be a very bad situation, very bad indeed. They probably wouldn't take too kindly to either her or Lucius. She was a Mudblood and Lucius had betrayed the Dark side in the end so neither ranked highly in any ex-Death Eater's books.

Hermione shut her eyes to stop tears coming as she thought of something else that terrified her. What had happened to Harry or Ron? She had completely forgotten all about them, what with everything that was happening. What if they were… gone?

When she opened her eyes again stray tears fell onto her warm cheeks. "Do you think Ron and Harry are still alive?" She was asking herself more than Lucius, but he still knitted his eyebrows together in eager curiosity.

He saw the look on her face. Watery eyes and lips set in a wobbly line of unknowingness. He decided to give her an answer just to stop her from looking so upset. _I can't have her blubbering like that, can I? _"Potter managed to vanquish the Dark Lord and if Weasley is anything like his mother, then he is more than capable of defending himself. I'm sure they will be fine."

He may not have liked either of them, but he did have a lot to thank them for. And Hermione too. It was those three that went out and risked their lives in order to put a stop to the Dark Lord. Without them, this world would be in a deeper peril than it was right now.

Wiping the tears on her pyjama sleeve she answered, "Yes, I'm sure they'll be fine."

They had to be fine, they were her best friends and she couldn't bear the thought that she might not ever see them again. It was too horrible to fathom…

_I shouldn't be crying!_ She scolded herself. _He must think I'm so pathetic crying over people who might not even be dead, he lost his family and he isn't sitting here crying!_

Hermione turned back to her book in melancholy, wondering if they were ever going to find anything.

* * *

><p>They were on the last books now. Lucius studied one about dark rune magic, while Hermione had been landed with one on Blood magic. She'd wanted the one on runes so badly, seeing how she used to study them at Hogwarts, but Lucius had snatched it up before she even had the chance.<p>

But now was not the time to sulk about not having the book she wanted, these were the last two books in the pile which meant that there had to be something on what they were looking for.

And if there wasn't then they were screwed.

As Hermione turned to page 769, she wasn't met with the dreary sight of black and white; instead, she was rewarded with nothing but white. An entirely blank page. The empty white space seemed foreign to her eyes that had become accustomed to never-ending scribble; something wasn't right.

_Has someone tried to remove the writing?_ Well she would know with a simple spell.

Her hands fumbled for the wand on the floor beside her. Once it was firmly in her grip, she pointed it at the middle of the blank page and whispered; "_Specialis Revelio"._

_Please appear! Please appear! _She thought desperately. Someone obviously didn't want anyone to find out what was on this page, so part of her doubted that a simple spell like that would work.

But it did and she almost screamed when heavy black words started to emerge from the white emptiness.

The title was completely visible now. Hermione read it, which was, adversely, in Latin; _Genus Hominum Extremitas._ If Hermione's knowledge in Latin served her correctly then 'Genus Hominum' translated into 'Human Race'?

Her heart skipped a beat in delight. Could _this_ be it?

She read the first of the pages in her head. _A dark and mysterious curse in which, if all magical guidelines are followed, has the potential to rid the world of all those deemed unworthy to walk on its surface. Any person put under the curse will successfully be transformed into a ravenous cannibal, feeding upon others and lesser creatures for the remainder of its natural life, unless the curse is broken…_

She didn't need to read anymore for now. She'd found it! She'd found the book on the curse and that meant they were closer to saving the world!

"Lucius!" She screamed at the top of her voice, causing Lucius to drop his book in surprise. "I've found it, Lucius! This is it!"

Lucius felt his heart flutter in his chest, a feeling that he would usually detest, but he managed to completely ignore it.

"Show me!" He hissed, although it was not meant in a vicious manner.

Hermione passed the book to him with trembling hands of excitement.

"The Genus Hominum Extremitas," He only read the title out loud, the rest was in his head. When he'd finished the first paragraph he turned to face Hermione with a tight smile etched across his lips. "Well done, Miss Granger, I am most grateful for your assistance, but there is one problem."

"Which is?"

His smile morphed into a deep frown. "It doesn't tell us how to put an end to it."

Hermione felt as if all the bookshelves in the library had come crashing to the ground and she had been standing directly underneath them. They were _this_ close to saving everyone but of course that had been short lived.

They were even more hopeless now than before they'd found the book.

"What does it _actually_ tell us about it?"

"Hmm, let's see. It's blood magic, albeit very dark blood magic. So dark, in fact, that it appears the Dark Lord is the first to have accomplished it."

Well that was obvious. If someone had cast it before then they wouldn't even be alive right now.

"The curse can only be cast by someone who has created a Horcrux. That explains why it's probably never been used before, because not many possess enough evil to actually create a Horcrux. It also mentions, however, that anyone can break the curse, _if_ they know how."

That was a positive thing, wasn't it? At least they knew that they could definitely break the curse. Except now they had the 'fun' job of working out _how_.

"What about why Purebloods and Half-bloods were spared?" Hermione asked.

"Yes that's here. The blood group of the caster cannot be chosen to be cursed; it would hypocritical and wrong to change the group that you belong to."

That would explain the Half-bloods, Voldemort was one.

"It says nothing about Purebloods so I'll assume that the Dark Lord meant for the Purebloods to rule over everyone else which is why I believe they are controllable."

Hermione put an involuntary hand to her cover her mouth in disbelief. "That's awful. Why would anyone want to rule over a world where everyone _eats_ each other?"

"Miss Granger, had the Dark Lord won, what do you think would have happened to the world? Where do you think you would be?"

_Well everyone wouldn't be eating each other, that's for sure! _She'd almost said, but decided to say something less sarcastic. "Well, I-I suppose that Voldemort and the Death Eaters would have ruled and I would probably be dead."

"Perhaps. You may have been killed, or simply thrown into to Azkaban to rot. Or you could have been given to a Death Eater as a reward for their loyalty to the Dark Lord, in other words, you would be a slave for the rest of your life and you would tend to all their needs. I'm sure you can guess what that would have included."

She nodded with tears in her chocolate brown eyes, not wanting to imagine what she may have been forced to endure.

"My point is that either way the Death Eaters would be ruling, so perhaps you should be thankful that I'm not beating you into submission right now, _or_ trying to find a way to continue with the Dark Lords plan."

"I understand." She croaked out, and then continued with more relevant issues. "Does the book say anything about why I haven't become one of them?"

"It doesn't say," He answered flatly. "But there must be some reason behind it. We'll find out eventually."

Eventually. That meant more waiting and Hermione really did not want to do that.

Lucius kept reading and regurgitated the most useful sections to Hermione.

"It also mentions a little about the creatures." He said. "It says that the curse cannot be spread through any means of contact between changed and non-changed humans, I suppose that's a relief for us, but that doesn't mean that they still won't try to kill and eat us." He said, somberly.

_What a fantastic way to brighten the situation._

"So..." Hermione announced, the tension was hanging in the air after she had spoken. "What are we going to do now?"

Lucius closed the book intentionally on his finger, as not to lose the page. "Do you want the good or bad news first?"

"Neither."

"I'll go with the bad then. The bad news is that I have no idea of what we are going to do about this. The good news is that we get to take a few days rest and try to think things over."

"That isn't good news though! Don't you see? The longer we spend not doing anything the more people die!" She paused, and then went on regretfully. "That's if there is anyone left for them to eat."

"You think I'm not aware of that? Believe me, I don't want any more people to die but we can't do anything right now and we'll do things even worse if we don't have a chance to calm down and figure things out in our heads."

He was right. And that is what made Hermione angry. Not because she didn't like Lucius being right, but because she really didn't want any more to die. Innocent people had died and were still dying out there and she felt so hopeless not being able to aid them in any way.

They had yet another obstacle to tackle and Hermione had a revolting tingle in her bones that next time it wasn't going to be as easy as reading through books.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **I hope that any queries you had were answered in this chapter, if not however, message me or tell me what is bugging you in a review; I promise to answer any concerns you might have! Some parts of Lucius may have seemed OOC and I apologize but I thought the idea of him teasing Hermione was too good to pass._

_Again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, you guys keep me going! xxx_


	5. The Idea

**:-:-: Chapter 5 :-:-:**

Hermione had wanted to retire to the bedroom and sleep away her worries and fears but instead, Lucius insisted that they go to the kitchen so they could eat till their heart's content, or actually, stomach's content. "We can't do anything on an empty stomach." He'd bluntly told her and she had agreed meagrely, although she didn't fell much like eating anymore.

Their supper had consisted of bread, cheese, ham and various jarred accompaniments. Lucius' excuse for their less than satisfactory meal being that he had never once set foot in _his_ kitchens, so therefore didn't know where anything was kept. Hermione had suggested that they just look through every cupboard but after seeing the sheer size of the place, she just settled on eating what they had. Not to mention that she was in no mood for another disaster with a summoning charm!

The first night had been grim for Hermione.

Whilst Lucius had fallen peacefully into a deep and calm sleep, Hermione had had little than less luck. The bed she had transfigured from a lonely little stool was remarkably comfortable, but that hadn't made things any easier. After an hour or more of listening to the regular breathing of Lucius, she'd realised that she would never fall asleep on her body's own account and so she had carefully traipsed into the en-suite bathroom to find a vial of Sleeping Draught and a Dreamless Sleep Potion.

_What if he thinks I'm stealing from him? _She'd panicked and hastily put the potions back in their spot in the glass cupboard, but after reconsidering her action she decided that he probably wouldn't kill her for taking a couple of potions and so she'd choked them down without thinking of any further consequences.

She slipped into a brilliantly quiet and peaceful slumber after that.

* * *

><p>The next morning dawned with a blood tinged sky that turned the typically pure white clouds into an ailing mixture of purple and orange, which may have been hard on the eyes, had the sun not been hiding behind an even angrier looking cloud.<p>

Most people would consider it a beautiful start to the day but Hermione knew better than to think that. What was it her mother used to say…? Oh yes; _'Red sky at night, shepherd's delight,_ _red sky in morning, shepherd's warning.'_

Hermione sighed sadly. Whilst she'd never been too fussed over weather folklore, luck hadn't exactly been their friend lately so she had a feeling the weather also wasn't going to be good company, plus the sky did look ready to burst at the slightest change in pressure.

She stared at the malicious atmosphere in awe, praying that the clouds would do anything but drop their load on top of them. Okay, so maybe they weren't planning on going outside but the tapping of rain against the windows would undoubtedly serve to make her feel worse than she already felt.

She hated this uncharacteristic sadness that seemed to have swarmed her entire body, but she couldn't help it. Could she be blamed for her feelings though? It wasn't her fault that the world had become riddled with a vicious disaster and as much as she tried to blame it on Lucius, she couldn't. Maybe it was his fault that it had still happened, but it was really down to Voldemort for causing it to happen! She felt angry at times, but then could switch to deep sadness in the blink of an eye and there was nothing she could do about it. But surely anyone in her situation would feel the same?

Except for Lucius…

He'd lost his family and, with the exception of when they had first arrived at the Manor, was determined to do anything that was a possibility in order to stop it.

Hermione used to be like that. Always fighting and never giving up. So why wasn't she doing it now?

She didn't know.

Lucius emerged from his shower, walking proudly into the room with only a towel wrapped around him at the waist, and to be fair, it was a pretty small towel which didn't leave much to the imagination. Some would say that it was odd that Lucius Malfoy, of all people, would prance around half naked in front of an eighteen year old girl; he was _very_ vain after all. But it was because of this trait that he simply didn't care, even if she was a Mudblood. As a man of forty-five he knew that he was in _very_ good shape and he wasn't going to shy away like some damned teenager.

He noticed Hermione sitting on the window seat with her nose buried in a _book_ and felt a smirk crack onto his face. Trust a _Know-It-All_ to still take an interest in books even after their tedious afternoon in the library.

"After all that reading and _still_ you decide to read a book?" He said, letting himself be known in the room. His sudden announcement startled Hermione and she jumped out of her seat in fright and almost threw the book across the room.

"Please don't do that!" She gasped, clutching a hand to her heart that beat insanely heavy rhythms underneath her slim fingertips. "I thought you were one of _them!"_

"I highly doubt that they would have a voice exactly the same as mine, don't you? That's assuming they can even talk. Besides, I told you that they won't be able to get into the Manor. It's far too well protected to let those bastards get in."

Knowing that, Hermione settled back down. Maybe she had sworn never to read again after that day in the library but when she'd caught a glimpse of this particular book in one of the piles they had made, she decided that it might do her good to brush up on her knowledge of the _Imperius Curse._

Except she wasn't going to tell him what she was reading.

She looked at Lucius and thought she would pass out from becoming over-heated if she didn't look away. Good God, he was… well, for someone who she may have once considered evil, he was certainly blessed by his genes. Instead of concentrating on the page of her book, she couldn't help but stare wide eyed at the well-defined muscles of his abdomen.

_No, no, NO! I cannot be getting all hot and bothered over Lucius Malfoy!_

Just because he was fairly good looking, and had a nice… _oh God!_ She tore her eyes away from him.

"Y-you should put on a shirt." She suggested so fast it was almost inaudible; inclining her head towards a draw she assumed he kept his shirts in.

Actually, it was the wrong draw but Lucius didn't bother telling her that. "Why do you care if I do?" He snapped back, only to remember seconds later the conversation they'd shared in the library. He also saw the rosy redness of her cheeks. "Oh yes, you're a prude! How could I forget?"

"I am _not_!" Hermione thumped her book on the floor, cover side down, and sent Lucius a look of pure hatred. Images of his agitating smirk the last time he had called her that kept replaying in her head and she wanted to smack it off him because, _yes_, he was wearing the _same_ smirk now.

"It's just… well, aren't you… embarrassed?"

Well, if anyone was embarrassed right now, it was Hermione.

Lucius merely raised an eyebrow and answered; "Why should I be? I'm perfectly healthy and definitely not ugly, so I have nothing to be embarrassed about. And unlike a certain bushy haired girl, I'm not a prude."

"Your overlarge ego makes you ugly." She told him quietly, ignoring the fact that he had made fun of her _twice_ in that last sentence, and with a shrug of her shoulders, she carried on with her reading.

He really couldn't fathom _why_ she would want to read ever again in her life? He certainly didn't, and he hadn't even had the misfortune of having to read the 'sexual curses' book.

Speaking of that particular book, Lucius pondered if maybe she had sneaked that one up here. She seemed to be reading whatever in a very secretive manner, so perhaps she was trying to hide that book from him?

Somehow he doubted that, but it would be amusing if he was to find her to be looking at that. Oh how he would tease her mercilessly over it…

Forgetting her prudish suggestion of putting on a shirt, he stepped over to Hermione and to see what she was reading. But he was halfway there when he needn't walk any further. The bold text of the front cover was visible and combined with his hawk-like eyesight; he could read it from where he stood.

"_How to resist the Imperius Curse._" He mumbled with a tone that reminded Hermione very much of the way Professor Snape used to speak during a Potions lesson.

_Oh God…_ he groaned in his head. _What is wrong with her?_

Lucius shot a steaming glare of disappointment to Hermione and she had to stop herself from cowering in shame. "Please tell me you don't have this for _that_ reason?" He asked sternly and closed the gap between them.

However, judging from the two patches of pink that rose high on Hermione's cheeks, he knew exactly why she had it. The stupid girl had obviously heard the rumours of his mastery with that particular curse and she'd somehow got it into her head that he was going to use it on her.

But why would he use _Imperius_ on her? What did she expect that he would do to her? Make her go outside and wander into a crowd of those cannibalistic demons? Make her have _sex_ with him?

As pleasing as that last idea sounded, he would never _force_ her to do anything like that and knew that if he was going to ever bed her, she would also have to want it and, regrettably, that didn't seem like much of a possibility right now.

Well, whatever she may believe, he would need to change her mind, and quickly.

"It's not what you think-"

But Lucius cut her off with a firm, but gentle hand on her shoulder. "When are you going to stop living in the past, Miss Granger?"

Hermione felt herself shudder at his touch and looked away, feeling as though she'd done something terribly wrong.

"Please believe me when I say that I am not the same man." He told her softly, needing to get her to change her mind about him. Perhaps it was normal for her to be acting like this, he didn't know, he _had_ tried to kill her before so maybe it was allowed for her not to trust him fully, but how was she ever going to learn to do so when she forced herself to only think about the mistakes he'd made?

That wasn't going to help either of them! And besides, Lucius hadn't used the _Imperius Curse _in over a year, what made her think he was capable of doing it now? _Although, with there not being any Aurors or Ministry, it would make the deed a whole lot easier…_ No! It would not do him well to be thinking like that! Those days of being a devious Death Eater were _over._

Here he was, conversing with a _Mudblood_, for Merlin's sake! Was that not a big enough point to prove that he had changed!

Well apparently not, because Hermione wasn't convinced by it.

She stared at him with disdain, her bottom lip unintentionally stuck out giving her the image of a pouting teenager. What reason did she have to believe him though? He'd already called her a Mudblood _twice_ since he'd found her, who knew what would come next?

It wasn't easy to loathe someone one day and then have to completely trust them the next.

Lucius waited for Hermione to say something, but when it became apparent that she was not going to answer, he tried something else. Giving her an assessing look, he asked; "What do you want me to do? Get down on my knees and beg? Because I'll do that if I have to."

Hermione's bottom lip trembled as a small laugh bubbled its way into her mouth and before she could stop it from coming out; it had already sounded. But she just couldn't help it. The idea of having _Lucius Malfoy_ _begging_ to _her_ wearing only a _towel_ was just too funny _not_ to laugh at.

It was also too funny to let the opportunity pass by.

Reverting back to a serious and mulish tone, "Okay then," she said. "Get down on your knees and beg."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. How he wanted to slap himself… Why, in the name of Merlin, had he suggested that he beg? He was wearing a towel and a loose fitting one at that…

Not forgetting that he was a Slytherin and Slytherin's did _not_ beg. Ever.

Well apparently he was going to be the first in his house to ever accomplish this disgraceful act that was below him in every way imaginable. At least he was certain that no one, other than Hermione, would be able to see him in perhaps one of his lowest moments…

He gritted his teeth and slumped down onto his knees, making sure that the towel would not slip down at any moment, not that he would have cared if Hermione had seen anything. She would have been rewarded with a delicious eyeful anyway, so that was fine.

No, it was the thought of his towel dropping _whilst_ begging that unnerved him.

So, now that he was on the floor, what did he do next? He had absolutely no idea about the art of begging – if such a thing even existed. He'd seen countless displays of begging in the past; being a Death Eater meant that some of your… _subjects_ were liable to beg for their life and so he should have a fairly good idea of what to do. But he didn't. Not a clue.

He looked at Hermione, and grey met brown as he attempted to beg for the first time in his life.

"Miss Granger, please will you trust me?" It was a seemingly polite start, but inside all he could think about was how he would make sure he got her back for this. He added another; "Please?" for good measure and waited in hope that now she might actually trust him.

His hopefulness had come too soon.

Instead of the _'Okay, Mr Malfoy, I trust you' _he'd wanted to hear from her, there was a fervently high pitched laugh that literally sent shivers swimming in waves across his dewy skin.

"You call that begging?" Hermione snorted, while taking in the view of the pathetic display infront of her. Not that she was very surprised to see that he had absolutely no idea of what to do, but the hopeful smile he also gave made the whole situation that much funnier. Not to mention that he was wearing a towel and his usually dignified hair was dripping wet and plastered to his shoulders. Begging definitely wasn't his flair. "I want to see you begging _properly!_ Where are the hand gestures and puppy dog face?"

"Miss Granger, if you think that for one minute I am going to make a… 'puppy dog face' then you are sorely mistaken."

_Oh no he doesn't!_ Hermione had endured him teasing her; she was not going to miss the chance of getting him back for that!

"I don't think so, _Mr Malfoy! _I want to see you in all of your glory." She said, with an innocent yet somehow teasing smile across her lips, before she realised how it could be taken in a different way.

Lucius cocked an eyebrow and laughed. "Really?" He gasped. "Well in that case maybe I should remove the towel."

"No!" Her scream bounced off the walls and rang in Lucius' ears long after she actually shut up. "I didn't mean it like _that! _I meant that I want to see your hands together, in the air and your best impression of a puppy."

Oh Lord, he was in trouble.

It was a good thing that he was a few metres from the wall; otherwise he would undoubtedly smash his head against it.

He looked up at Hermione, whose arms were tightly folded across her chest and was giving him a smirk that could possibly rival his own – which, for once, he _wasn't_ wearing.

"Is this because of the 'prude' comments?" He asked haughtily, hoping that maybe if he forgave her for that then he wouldn't have to bear the pain of having to beg properly.

Hermione felt suddenly very childish. "Yes. Big nasty bullies always get their comeuppance."

Lucius swallowed hard in realisation that there was no way out of this. Well, actually, there were many ways out of it if you took into consideration the fact that he was a Death Eater but, unfortunately, she would never trust him if he did something as rash as sending a well-aimed Hex at her.

Perhaps he should beg her to spare him from this humiliation instead?

Reluctantly and also making sure that his towel wouldn't somehow slip; he raised both hands in the air and placed them palm to palm; interlocking his long fingers.

That was as far as he was going though. Under _no_ circumstance was he going to make his face resemble that of a puppy! He would rather be forced to drink Flobberworm mucus for the rest of his life.

He looked pleadingly into her eyes, swallowed his disgust and managed to say; "Please, _please_ will you allow yourself to trust me?" _Merlin please let that be enough!_ He desperately thought.

Hermione squared her shoulders and brought a hand to her chin, purposely taking her sweet time to answer. After what seemed to be an age of 'hmm-ing' and 'arr-ing' to Lucius, she simply responded; "I'll think about it."

_That's a yes, _he decided as he stood straight back up, allowing the blood to come back to his tense knees. And she'd better bloody think about it because he had just resulted to begging like an ungraceful _Muggle _for her!

Hermione could hear his annoyance in his thoughts; _probably something about her making sure she did think about it and Muggles._

If only she knew how right she was.

"So…" she beamed a smile to him; a way to irritate him further. "I guess we're even now?"

"A Malfoy never becomes 'even' with anyone. We are always one up."

_Well it certainly didn't take him long to revert back to being an aristocratic arse. _"Well, while you try to heal your injured ego, I have a request for you."

"If it's more begging then I'd rather not hear it." He said dryly.

"No, it's not that." She laughed, and then said seriously toned; "Would you please get dressed?"

Smirking, "No, I don't think I will yet. Like I said, a Malfoy is never even."

With that said, he walked away with one hand tightly holding onto the knot of his towel and the other clutching the book on the _Imperius Curse _that he'd managed to take from Hermione without her even realising.

Hermione sat in silence for a few minutes after his departure. Did she really trust him now? Perhaps, but just because he'd shown that he couldn't always be the refined man he so desperately thought he was, did not mean she should automatically trust him.

But then an idea slammed into Hermione's head. Maybe she had trusted him since the beginning of this terror but just didn't realise it?

Would she really be trying to stop all of what was happening with Lucius if she didn't trust him? _Probably not._

With a boost of confidence, Hermione realised that she _did_ trust him and that she wouldn't stop unless he gave her a reason to do so.

And she truly hoped he wouldn't.

* * *

><p>Two days and hours of pondering later, and they both found themselves no closer to finding the cure to the curse than they had been previous days before.<p>

Despite her brilliant mind, Hermione just could not come up with answers to anything. She was told to think of possible locations of the book containing the counter-curse, but it was harder than you might think. She'd suggested _Flourish and Blotts_, almost any shop in _Knockturn Alley_, even a few in _Hogsmeade_, but Lucius had brushed them to the side and told her that all of those places, even shops in _Knockturn Alley_, wouldn't be of any help to them.

Well then, how was she supposed to come up with a half sensible answer to what he was asking her? It could be _anywhere_ in the world!

Lucius wasn't having much luck either. He knew that Malfoy Manor may possibly have once been in touch with a copy but where it had gone; he did not know. If it had been in the library, they most certainly would have found it that day, but they didn't, and that raised a lot of questions.

Had someone taken it? If so, who? It could have been any one of the Death Eaters or maybe even Voldemort himself…

Lucius felt sick to his bones at that thought. If his _Lord _had taken it then it made things much, _much_ worse.

And Lucius had a feeling that's what had happened to it.

Where it had gone was another part of the puzzle that he didn't even want to comprehend.

Telling Hermione his theory was his other problem. He'd no idea how she would react to it and even though he could handle any outburst she might throw at him, he wasn't sure that's what he wanted. Truth be told, she had been much more tolerable in the past few days, her temperamental behaviour had faded to minor mood swings every so often, but still…

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped up and she replied with a mumbled; "Yes?"

"I have a suggestion but you're not going to like it."

Hermione's stomach twisted into an unsettling knot. She tried to sound as if she wasn't scared to hear his suggestion, but really she was terrified of hearing it. "And that is…?"

"The Dark Lord obviously had to have kept a copy, seeing how he managed the curse, so I think it would be a fairly good idea to check the room he stayed in when he was here."

Hermione wanted to cry. Whether it was from the prospect of them actually finding something useful, or that they were going to go to _Voldemort's_ bedroom, she didn't know. Seriously, what the hell was he thinking?

_Yes, because it is such a good idea to wander into the bedroom of the darkest wizard the world has ever known…_

Did Voldemort even _need_ to sleep? You would think that someone – or _something_ – as inhumane and poisonous as him wouldn't actually have to sleep! He had been immortal for Christ sake; do immortals really have a need for a bedroom?

"Do you really think that's such a good idea?"

Lucius chewed on his bottom lip as discretely as possible. Surprisingly, it was a benign habit that had progressed to an obsession over the years. But luckily, it only occurred when he wasn't sure of something and not all the time. Yes, even Lucius Malfoy had a habit. And at that moment it was such a tendency that he was sure that he would end up cutting a hole through the tender flesh if he didn't stop it.

Was it a good idea going into the Dark Lord's bedroom? Of course not. Would it be a start? Yes; and dear God did they need a start.

So even though the book they'd discovered in the library was a start, it told them absolutely nothing about a counter curse so maybe that wasn't such a good start after all?

He was silent for a short moment and then said. "No. It's a ridiculous idea but do you have anything better?"

"No." She mumbled grimly. She had nothing.

"Well then," he exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as possible. "It appears that it is our only choice."

So that was that. Just out of nowhere it was decided that they would go and pay a visit to the Dark Lords bedroom. _Fantastic._

* * *

><p>Hermione glumly decided that perhaps she should pay attention to weather folklore in the future. The little 'red sky morning' phrase had been true. Although it was obvious that it wasn't just shepherds that needed to be warned.<p>

The heavens had opened and the Earth was continuously being coated in a slippery, cold blanket of water. Being mid-October, you didn't exactly need to be a scientist to realise that overnight the residue rain water would freeze and make their task of ridding the world of this curse even more arduous than it was already pre-conceived to be.

Hermione stared out of the beautifully stained window in regret of deciding to visit the room in which Voldemort stayed during his time spent at Malfoy Manor, on _this_ day.

Her time spent as a Muggle had been an interesting and knowledgeable time that hadn't really prepared her for the Wizarding World in any way, shape or form, but if there was one thing she had learned; it was that bad things _always_ occurred in bad weather.

She'd only seen a select few Muggle horror movies but of all the ones that had been forced upon her unnerved eyes; she could recall that they all seemed to take place during thunderstorms.

It was dark, dank and miserable outside, with the occasional flash of searing white light and great booming roars that made Hermione's stomach coil up.

It was not a good sign, she just knew it.

_God, I'm beginning to sound like Professor Trelawney! _She chuckled in her head. _Maybe I should be more worried of turning into her than a bloody zombie!_

After transfiguring her pyjamas and slippers into something a little more appropriate, she turned to Lucius and signalled that she was prepared to go. Well, actually, she wasn't really prepared at all mentailly, but Hermione just wanted to do was get this over with.

Lucius was dressed in dark slacks and a fairly loose fitting shirt. It seemed rather… _casual_ for him, Hermione thought. Granted, he still oozed wealth but the overly intricate robes that she'd come to associate with him were nowhere to be seen and instead had been replaced with a cool casualness.

He looked far better than she did in her poorly transfigured robes. You would never have believed that she was once at the top of her Transfiguration class. It didn't really matter though; fancy clothes weren't exactly the most important thing to either of them anymore.

"Do you have everything?" Lucius asked, slipping his wand into the large trouser pocket. He'd decided to leave the rest of the cane and just take the wand. It would be much easier without it.

Hermione raised a small green sequined bag she'd found in another room and said; "Yes."

The little bag contained every one of the potions in Lucius' bathroom which ranged from all varieties of Healing Potions, to a Strengthening Solution and even various poison antidotes. She was certain that she'd even added a vial of Amortentia, but has been too busy to remove it again. Hermione had hoped that she might come across some Liquid Luck, but to her disappointment, that seemed to be about the only potion that Lucius didn't have. They also had the book about the _'Genus Hominum Extremitas'_ and an invisibility cloak that Lucius had packed after remembering that he actually had one. Of course it was nothing on Harry's but it still worked reasonably well to conceal them from the living dead world. Charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and the small bag was ready to go with them.

When Hermione thought about it they probably didn't have needs for all the potions, but who knew what was going to happen when they entered that room. She kept having ghastly visions of knives flying out from all directions and slicing them into nothing, or of the walls closing in on them until they had been squashed into dust.

A chilling shiver ghosted down her spine and she visibly shook her head, hoping that the vile thoughts would be shaken away.

Lucius knew how frightened she was of doing this but he was as useless at comforting as he was at begging, so he decided it was best not to say anything. He didn't think that anything he could say would make her any less nervous but that didn't matter, at least she actually trusted him now – he hoped.

Lucius sucked in a refreshing breath to try and calm his buzzing nerves. He would never admit to it, but going into that room was the equivalent of a nightmare to him. A real, dark and unforgiving nightmare that made the wobbly sensation in his legs become even worse with each passing minute. He only hoped that he wouldn't collapse the moment he began walking.

"Ready?" He asked Hermione, although he was questioning himself as well.

"Ready." She confirmed, holding her wand tighter in her shaky grip.

Perhaps neither of them were really ready, but it was as ready as they would ever be.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ Sorry for the slight cliff-hanger but you'll have to wait to see what's in store for them! And I don't even know if Voldemort would sleep and therefore be in need of a room, but hey, who really cares?_

_I got all hot and bothered when envisaging Lucius begging in only a towel! Excuse me while I go cool myself down…_

_So by now you're probably seeing that this is a kind of serious/not so serious story. My reasoning behind this is just because I want to. After writing generally dark stuff, this is my get away from it, so I'm going to try and make it a little humorous in parts. I hope this is okay with everyone. :)_

_Thank you SO much to everyone who has read it or reviewed it so far! Receiving the emails telling me that people have reviewed makes my life! Vielen Dank ;)_

_Enough rambling…_

_Review?_


	6. Disaster

**:-:-: Chapter 6 :-:-:**

The room which had belonged to Voldemort during his stay at the Manor was situated in the West wing of the house and much to the disappointment of Hermione; it was difficult to get to. That made sense though, this was Voldemort they were dealing with and he was bound to have made sure that anything to do with him was made as difficult as possible; which wasn't really the most positive of thoughts because they were still yet to break the curse…

Hermione and Lucius walked side by side in a dismal silence. Neither looked at nor muttered a word to the other and they both seemed content in their own thoughts.

But really, they were anything but content.

During Voldemort's time at Malfoy Manor, Lucius had been the only Death Eater to know the location of the Dark Lord's chambers. Looking back on it now, he wasn't sure why he was the only one to know that and it actually seemed rather ludicrous, but he certainly wasn't complaining now.

That had been one of the only things Voldemort had actually trusted Lucius to know, after he had managed to let his down former master in almost every way possible; not retrieving the Prophecy and ending up in Azkaban, pretty much _giving_ away his diary Horcrux… He felt sick just thinking about it.

He looked down at his booted feet and the moving floor as he walked; not wanting to remember how awful that time had been for him. He had been a prisoner in his own home; forced into doing things that he no longer considered important. People sometimes used to ask him why he had not just run away from it all. Those were the people who understood _nothing_. They just didn't get it. No one did.

_Never again… _

Hermione held her head up and her eyes fell upon Lucius' profile. She could see that he was thinking about something bad from the way his brow creased into a foreboding grimace as he pursed his lips. His eyes were frozen in the awful memories.

She wanted to say something to him, but what could she say that wouldn't sound like a pathetic attempt to cheer him up? What if reacted… _badly_ and said or did something? _But he won't! _She reminded herself. _Would he of gotten down on his knees and begged me to trust him if he was just going to give me a reason for that trust to vanish?_

No, he wouldn't.

She tore her eyes away from his face as they came to a grand and formal entrance hall. Taking in the ornate décor and spectacular furnishings, she soon remembered that it was this room that they had first arrived in days before. But why were they in this room? They were supposed to be going to Voldemort's quarters…

Lucius spun around, taking in the girl's nervous form. She was positively trembling from head to toe, although she did hide it well by the tightening of her fists. Should it have been irritating him that the silly Mudbl – _girl_ – was so scared of a man that she hadn't even known the full wrath of? Lucius had experienced every inch of hate that Voldemort held for him, save for the actual Killing Curse, of which he had been certain he would become acquainted with if the Dark side had won.

Thank the Gods that Harry Potter had finished him off once and for all – even if he and Harry had never seen eye to eye.

But now was not the best time to dwell on what may or may not have been.

"From here," He began. It was the first time someone had spoken since leaving his own bedroom. "I will Apparate us to the main hall of the West wing. Stay with me at all times because you won't be able to Apparate in or out of the Manor on your own; only a Malfoy is able to Apparate within the house."

"I wasn't planning to." As if she would wonder off in _this_ house. It gave her chills just thinking about the terrible things that had happened here and she was not likely to just go off without having Lucius with her.

"Good." Hermione heard Lucius mumble under his breath.

"So why is it that you aren't just Apparating us directly to Voldemort's room?" She asked, fingers picking at excess lint on her Transfigured robes.

"Security." He simply replied, but after Hermione's devastating look of concern he elaborated. "It's part of the Manors ward system and it can never be breached, not even by myself, so we have no other choice than to go to the nearest room that I can Apparate into and walk from there."

Hermione stifled a grunt of annoyance and kept her face neutral. If something went wrong then it just made everything so much more complicated than it needed to be. Plus it meant more walking and even after a few days' rest, she still didn't feel like doing much.

As Lucius' eyes landed on her own, she realised that his were the only pair that were on her at this time, as opposed to when they had last been in the main hall and each portrait had given her the Malfoy sneer. But now she noticed that they weren't looking at her at all. Actually, they weren't even moving; all were frozen within the confines of their frames.

She turned ninety degrees on the spot, blinking her eyes to make sure that she wasn't seeing any illusions. **"**Why aren't they moving? I'm sure I saw them moving before…" She said belatedly, confusion knitting her eyebrows together.

"Indeed you did." Lucius' deep, yet opulent voice drawled from behind. "I charmed them to keep them still."

In all honesty, Hermione didn't see why he had bothered to do such a thing. She seemed to recall that he was more than pleased when they all stared at her in scrutiny the last time, but not that she was complaining. One moving set of eyes on her were enough.

There was one portrait in particular that caught Hermione's attention and she moved closer to it. She stared, her mouth a gaping hole. If the hair had not been at least three inches shorter, it could have been Lucius. Those stony eyes, hard-set face and aquiline nose were identical, she was sure of it. It was the aforementioned hair and slightly different shaped jaw that told her otherwise.

A name plaque hung below. _Abraxas Malfoy. _

_Abraxas Malfoy… _Where had she heard that name before…? Draco's grandfather! So then the portrait in front of her was Lucius' father…

"This is your father?" She asked, sweeping her eyes over the still portrait of the supposed Malfoy.

He released a drawn out sigh and drew himself up tall. "Yes."

"He looks just like you. Apart from the-"

"Hair."

"Yes…" Hermione said slowly.

"Everyone always used to say that." He muttered with obvious contempt.

Hermione clicked her tongue. "Well, sorry for being so monotonous, but you really do look alike. Actually, he looks more like what I imagine your brother would look like," she turned to Lucius, shyly meeting his eyes that looked so like the ones in the picture. "If you had one…"

"And how do you know that I don't have a brother? Or any siblings for that matter?"

Hermione felt her cheeks mutate to a pale pink. "I, umm…" She coughed quietly. "I did some research on your family…"

"_What?_ Was this recently?" He asked, shocked as to why this Muggle-born would have the need to inquire about _his_ family.

"A while back. Second year, actually. When..." She stopped suddenly, embarrassed and also frightened to tell him. _He might Hex me; _being her reason for doing so.

Lucius arched one sophisticated eyebrow. "When…?"

"Well we, umm, we kind of thought that Draco was the Heir of Slytherin... And I wanted to see if he was but obviously I didn't find anything…"

Instead of the Stinging Hex she was waiting for, there was a roar of laughter. "Draco? Honestly?" When Hermione nodded, he laughed again. "And I'm assuming that the 'we' consisted of you, Potter and Weasley?"

"Yes, but don't laugh because it was by no means funny at the time. People could have died." Her head dropped. "Including me."

Lucius ceased his laughter immediately, feeling guilty once more. What was it with this girl and making him feel so guilty? Never in his life had he been so confound with that emotion, of which it seemed only Hermione could make him feel it. His plan to successfully re-open the Chamber of Secrets replayed in his mind over and over. And what a stupid plan it had been.

Some of the mistakes he'd made in his past were too awful to contemplate.

"Come on," he muttered, wrapping his hand around Hermione's upper arm and pulling her marginally closer to him before Apparating them to the West wing of the house.

* * *

><p>The two of them traipsed through a series of different hallways and rooms that seemed so big and empty they were pointless. Hermione noticed how this side of the house appeared to be less lived in than other parts she had seen and briefly wondered if this had anything to do with Voldemort. It would seem that way, as Lucius had told her that no one had been to that room since the war ended.<p>

They turned a corner and stopped in front of a door. A door that seemed no bigger, smaller or less extravagant as others they'd passed, but Hermione could tell it was the one. How? It was darker than the rest. The varnish appeared to be so thick and dark it was almost black.

A shiver ran up her spine and her arm flew out to grasp Lucius' sleeve. "Wait," She gasped, pulling both of them back from the door. She felt herself trembling and knew he could feel it too. "I-I don't know if this is such a good idea after all…"

He plied her from his forearm with his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure that could also be disguised as harsh if she questioned his doing so in any way. Fortunately, Hermione kept silent but she was certain that he would be able to hear her heart pounding violently.

"Regardless of the consequences we face by entering this room," He was silent for a few moments. "We must go in. _We'll_ be the ones kicking ourselves if we choose not go in there when something useful to us could be there."

He was right. _I shouldn't be scared! _She sternly told herself._ Voldemort isn't actually in there; I just need to calm down…_

"If you're truly so frightened then why not take some Calming Draught? You seemed to have emptied out my entire Potion's cabinet into that bag," he indicated at the sparking pouch with his wand. "I'm sure you'll have some."

Hermione accepted his suggestion with an incline of her head and proceeded to rummage through the charmed bag.

Lucius let his eyes roll back into his head; for the brightest witch of her age she certainly wasn't acting like it. It was almost as if she'd forgotten that she was a witch!

He cleared his throat, earning a look of confusion from Hermione, and said; _"Accio Calming Draught."_

The little bottle popped out of the bag and he swiftly caught it with his quick skilled hand. He passed it to Hermione with a smirk curving at his lips and she snatched it from him with an angry scowl.

"I was about to summon it myself, actually!" She snapped.

"Of course you were." He sneered.

After taking a sip, she offered some to Lucius, which he politely refused, so she slipped it back into the bag with the other hundred or so Potions.

"So, will it be easy to get into it or do we need to go to the library again for me to summon the _thousands_ of books you have on unlocking doors?"

Lucius threw his head back and laughed. "Well that certainly calmed you down."

"Yes…" Her reply was dripping in sarcasm. "That's why it's called a _Calming Draught_!"

He laughed again. "Thank you for enlightening me on that, Miss Granger. Or are you sure it's not called a 'Sudden Cockiness Draught'?"

She responded with another angry look, although the Calming Draught meant that it wasn't angry for as long as she had intended and the moment it turned into a shy smile, she asked; "So, are you ready to impress me with some 'Dark Death Eater magic on unlocking doors'. I'm sure you know many spells."

Indeed he did know many, but first he would go with the obvious. Lucius fixed his eyes on the door, determinedly and whispered; _"Alohamora." _

There was a click of metal and voila; the door was unlocked.

Disappointment broke through Hermione in powerful waves. "That's it? What happened to the impressive display of Dark magic?"

"I think that Potion has made you too calm." He muttered.

She shrugged. "The effects of the Calming Draught may have reduced my mind to chilled out mush, but I'm still intelligent enough to realise that Voldemort's bedroom shouldn't have been so easy to unlock!"

"Deception was the Dark Lord's speciality, Miss Granger."

He proceeded with opening the door, opting to use his wand instead of his hand. Like he said; deception was Voldemorts speciality.

The door swung open, revealing the room of the former Dark Lord. It was plain and tidy, save for the sickly acid green wallpaper that dressed the room in a pure Slytherin ambience. Hermione, being a Gryffindor, almost found the disgusting décor offensive. The rest of the furnishings, however, were slightly less daunting. Solid mahogany pieces were dotted around the fairly large room in various places; including a bed, desk, drawers and a… _coat rack. _Voldemort in a coat. Charming…

As much as she didn't want to admit it, the wallpaper was the most horrific thing Hermione could see. Where were the bare stone walls, shackles and mass torture equipment that she had imagined? Or the skeletonised human remains and splattered blood stains? This was not the room she had envisaged. Perhaps her imagination had run too wild as she had certainly been expecting something far more drastic and inhuman.

_Looks can be deceptive, _was a phrase that was on her mind through and through.

Lucius took the first step into the room, wand raised consciously; he wasn't going to take any chances with anything. Hermione followed, her feet stepping in the exact place Lucius had previously stood in, afraid that if she walked anywhere else something uncanny might happen.

"_Accio __Genus Hominum Extremitas book." _He voiced his spell clearly.

But there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Not a rustle of objects shifting, or the banging of wood, if the book was trapped in a draw, perhaps. Just the same dead silence and emptiness that seemed to have seeped into every room of his home.

Lucius closed his eyes in disbelief. They were so unbelievably close to stopping the curse but of course something had stopped them – again.

There was no trace of the book and they were hopeless. _Again._

Hermione nearly cried tears of disappointment, but managed to somehow repress the urge. Tears would be useless at this point.

"W-what do we do now?" She asked; her voice wobbly with uncertainty and frustration.

Lucius pulled in a breath of defeat. "We leave this room."

He peeled away the hand that had somehow latched onto him again and turned back towards the door, ready to leave this Hellhole once and for all. Hermione joined him at the door but when Lucius made ready to actually step out of the room, he was stopped in his tracks as a sudden blast of cold air slithered through him, infusing with his blood and freezing him to the core.

He shuddered but thought nothing of it. It was probably just a draft, after all.

But there was another billow of icy air, this time consuming more of him than the first.

When it passed, he swallowed dryly and checked to see if Hermione felt it as well.

She didn't.

He knew something was wrong.

The silence danced around him but then; _Luciusssss… _It was an abrupt whisper with nothing but thin air powering it and it seemed to have come from nowhere and at first he thought it might have been Hermione but knew it wasn't when his head began to spin and an unbearable crackle pounded inside his eardrums.

"Lucius?" It was Hermione this time.

He took steps back from the door, hoping that it might lessen the pain but it did nothing to help and only caused Hermione to move back with him.

"Stop!" His words shot through the air like a deadly bullet. "Don't move!"

Hermione's heart solidified in its cage, as if it had been encased in stone. She remained unmoving, breathing steadily and keeping her wand tight in her hand.

Lucius collapsed onto his knees, ignoring the gush of red hot pain that exploded as he collided with the floor. The searing agony in his head was too much to be distracted from, it felt as if his brain was swelling up and pushing against his skull and cracking it until it would shatter into a thousand different pieces.

Hermione didn't move, just like he'd ordered her to, but seeing Lucius like this was scaring her. She couldn't just stand and watch as the blonde wizard writhed and screamed in obvious pain. She had to do something! But what?

The now room seemed to be burning to Lucius, so diverse to the freezing sensation he'd felt mere moments before. Now, his head felt as though it was suspended above a roaring fire and the vicious flames were licking at his face, melting and destroying him.

_Luciussss…._The same voice spoke to him again and he knew now that it wasn't the girl speaking to him.

It was Voldemort.

But how? Well, it was hardly an appropriate time to answer that now.

_Luciusssss… _His former master's voice hissed inside his buzzing head. _You left me, Lucius... You abandoned your master to find your pathetic excuse of a son. You've failed everyone, Lucius. Your family is dead because of you and now you have no one. Not a soul…_

He thrashed his head from side to side, hoping to rid his mind of the God awful voice that was causing him so much agony. He could see the girl's mouth moving wildly, trying to speak to him but to no avail. Another deep and painful hiss sounded inside his temple, causing his eyes to shut off to the world and his hands to viciously claw at his ears.

_You are not powerful enough to stop me, Lucius. You will not succeed. You will suffer, like you deserve…_

And then it stopped. Just like that. The deathly heat dispersed into nothing and the sibilant whispers were gone. He re-opened his eyes and observed that everything appeared to be normal again; save for the faint ringing in his ears and the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to be bone deep.

"Lucius!" Hermione screamed. She was trembling in fear. "Please! Tell me you're okay?"

Lucius could see the girl was near to tears. "Yes," he replied, breathlessly. "I'm okay."

Hermione didn't believe him, though. He was convulsing frantically and strands of pale blonde hair were cemented to his forehead with a sheen film of sweat. A Flobberworm could see that he was not okay.

_What if he dies?_ The thought passed her mind, even though she wouldn't allow herself to believe it. But if he did… She would be alone and would never be able to break the curse.

Or survive…

She moved closer, crouching down to him and said; "Here, drink this." A free hand wound around the back of his head, entwining with the silky tresses as she lifted up ever so carefully. The other hand was clutching a vial of something that smelled suspiciously like an Invigoration Draught. She placed the cool glass against his lips and made sure he sipped a big enough dose.

He wasn't sure how, but he managed to trick his tongue into swallowing the putrid sweetness of the Potion even though his body protested against it. He felt as though he may just sick it all back up again.

Hermione steadily placed Lucius' head back onto the floor and put the Potion back in the bag, but soon went back to their previous position after doing so.

"What happened to you?" Her voice shook.

Lucius didn't answer for a while. The Potion hadn't quite kicked in yet and he still felt as though he'd been hit by one thousand Bludger's.

"The Dark Lord…" He breathed weakly, having finally mustered enough energy to speak a little. "I heard his voice… in my head."

There was another pause, which was broken by Hermione's shocked gasp.

"How?" She asked, though Lucius was in no mood to answer. Not to mention that he had no bloody idea what had happened.

Despite that he had no sustenance left in his body, he felt content to just lying there and having Hermione hold him tightly. It was strange situation to feel relaxed over but what had been whispered into his head about having no one… well, maybe this proved the Dark Lord wrong?

His musings that he would have once considered weak, pathetic and _filthy_ were cut short by a small luminous ball of red floating above them which reflected in his glazed eyes, allowing Hermione to see. She lifted her head up and her breath caught high in her throat when glowing red numbers began carving themselves out of the red mass, swirling and rearranging before eventually forming the figure '60'.

The whole world felt as if it had frozen over, as they both stared at the digits floating directly over their bewildered heads.

It was only when a ticking sound rang through their ears and the number changed from '60' to '59' that Lucius shot upwards and shouted; "We have to get out of here, now!"

His hand instantly found Hermione's like a magnetic attraction and he pulled her up smoothly, sparing no time before they began to sprint out of the room.

It seemed the Invigoration Draught had finally kicked in.

"What… is it?" Hermione screamed her question, despite being out of breath.

"A Magical Bomb." He replied in an exasperated shout, having no time to explain any further exactly what was happening.

Hermione almost choked on a gasp but frantically forced her brain into making her legs to move faster. She knew how destructive Muggle bombs could be, but a Magical Bomb, one created by Voldemort at that! Well, that was not going to be good.

Lucius tightened his grip on her and pulled her through the on-going maze of corridors and rooms, determined to survive the explosion that would be happening in around thirty seconds. They ran for their lives, _literally_, because one stumble, trip or fall meant death. They had no time to slow down for anything.

At long last, they reached a room that he could Disapparate. Lucius pulled Hermione flush against him and before they knew it, both were being squeezed into the stomach-turning vacuum of Apparition.

* * *

><p>Hermione landed on something soft and warm, her head dizzy with having no idea where they had come to. Although, judging by the dark covering of the trees that were casting illusory shadows across them, it was obvious that they were in a forest, presumably somewhere in Wiltshire.<p>

A weary groan from underneath concluded that the 'soft and warm' thing she had landed on was Lucius. At any other moment Hermione would probably have been embarrassed to her bones by the inappropriate position they were in, but right now she could care less.

"I'm so sorry!" She gasped, scrambling off of the poor man who had had the fortune to be squashed by her. While she wasn't heavy, light as a feather Lucius decided, it was by no means the most comfortable experience.

Hermione could feel the rainwater saturating her clothing. It was cold and detestable against her skin that had been bone dry only minutes ago. Lucius' white shirt had become a fragile mass of invisible cotton and gave the rather attractive sight of Lucius muscular torso through the almost non-existent layer. But it wasn't just soaked in water. There was a growing patch of liquid crimson, drenching the material just below his left shoulder.

"Lucius? Can you hear me?" She lightly slapped his cheek, desperate to keep the wizard from drifting into a dangerous blackness. His eyes were open, but barely and she was only able to see a small sparkle of the silver irises. "H-how did you do that?"

"Splinched…" Came a weak whisper, strained by shallow intakes of air.

Hermione turned quickly, her eyes scanning through the fading daylight, determining whether or not they were truly alone in the bleak surroundings. There were no signs of life, whether it be zombie, human or forest wildlife. They were alone.

Her eyes landed upon a white lump in the distance. Adjusting her eyes, she recognised it to be some sort of shed. _Shelter!_

Anxious eyes flickered back to Lucius. His usually beautiful hair had turned from pale blonde to a faded yellow and was adhered to his face with the endless bouts of rain. His breathing was slow and strained but it was there; a good thing in itself. If he stopped breathing now then… Oh God, it was too horrible to think about the consequences…

She had to move him and get him inside; _now!_ The longer he was out in the cold and rain, the more susceptible he was to getting a fever or _worse_, not to mention that Hermione was in no tendency to end up with a sore throat and running nose.

They had enough problems as it was.

"I-I'm going to move you inside; out of the rain."

He didn't reply.

She carefully levitated Lucius' now unconscious form into the air, giving it her all and barely blinking an eye for fear that she might drop him. Merlin, he might die if she dropped him now! The blood flowing slowly from his arm was following them in an even trail of big red splodges on the forest floor and Hermione made a serious mental note to clean up all traces of their presence. Who knew if those creatures could smell blood or not!

The little shed was so close now she could touch it and on closer inspection it turned out not to be a shed at all, but a quaint little Georgian cottage, forgotten by the world of modern civilisation.

Or maybe not entirely forgotten as upon venturing inside the first room, thought by Hermione to be the living room, there were obvious giveaways that it had, until recently, been lived in. Although, if it weren't for the modern, yet still dated interior, anyone else might believe that the place hadn't been inhabited for centuries. Dust bunnies and cobwebs had taken up residence in every nook and cranny that could be seen; Hermione hated to think what was lurking in the places that couldn't be seen!

A windup radio and Telephone sat opposite each other on a dark mahogany coffee table, surrounded by couches and chairs.

_Muggles._

Hermione felt her heart swell in glee; _Maybe someone's here! Someone else might be alive! _

She placed Lucius onto the couch, quickly yet still attentively. It was filthy and she could just imagine what he would be saying if he knew, but thankfully, he did not.

A quick _Homenum Revelio_ showed that there was no human life presence in the tiny cottage other than them and Hermione felt the exhilaration of actually finding another person alive slowly melting away into the solemn surroundings of what she supposed would be their new 'home'.

But it was probably best that no one else was with them, Hermione decided. People would be desperate in a situation like theirs, who knew what might become of them. Besides, a Muggle wouldn't be alive in their human form…

She swallowed thickly and continued to eye Lucius' unmoving form, figuring out what to do. She had some healing spells memorized but it was probably best not to use them on Lucius for the first time. He most certainly would not approve of being used as her human guinea pig.

_Dittany! _That's what she used on Ron after he'd Splinched himself. She even remembered putting some in the bag at the Manor!

Ripping his sodden shirt open, she applied the liquid onto the open flesh in even spaced drops and watched as the skin magically welded itself back together. After washing away the blood that had so freely spewed from the wound, a Drying Charm was desperately needed. Hermione was well and truly soaked through to her underwear and she doubted that Lucius had fared any better. She haphazardly threw a patchy blanket over his now dry body that had the distinct colour – _and_ _smell_ – of dog piss.

Or was it human piss?

She bloody hoped not.

Wrapping a second blanket around herself, this one less horrific than the one over Lucius, she sank down into a moth eaten armchair. Hermione hugged her arms around herself, attempting to keep the warmth from seeping away from her already cold body. The thin walls and windows of the tiny cottage did nothing to keep out the chilling air and she had the image of waking up to finding Lucius encased in a giant ice cube or something ridiculous.

_Nothing that a little Heating Charm won't remedy…_

And now she was able to snuggle into the comfort of the chair. Her head fell back against the soft padding and she soon joined Lucius in his unconscious state.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__Poor Lucius… I feel kind of bad for hurting him so much in this chapter but oh well. He'll get better soon ;)_

_I thought I'd upload this before tomorrow because it's exam results day tomorrow and I knew I wouldn't be able to post anything so I thought I'd do it tonight instead. Is anyone else getting their results tomorrow? I'm so scared it hurts! :(_

_I'd just like to say a massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! I especially loved the ones from last chapter commenting about Lucius in his towel, I hope you all had a wonderful image in your head ;)_

_So how about some more fabulous reviews?_


	7. Conflicting Thoughts

**:-:-: Chapter 7 :-:-:**

Some people believe the world is made of Good and Evil; Black and White; Light and Dark. For many years Hermione had been living on the Light side, the good side and Lucius on the Dark side. She fought to protect the world and to save it and he fought to destroy it. But now they were on neither. Black and White had come together by mistake and had formed Grey. Two opposites joined by the remnants of the Darkness that sought to destroy the world.

* * *

><p>Upon awaking, Hermione was not met with the twisted, blood red eyes of which she had dreamed, but of a greying darkness that settled over the little cottage and would soon disappear with the growing light of dawn. Daylight would approach soon, and give Hermione's heart a fragment more hope. It wasn't that she hated the darkness and she was most certainly not scared of it, it was just that it made everything more convoluted. And she hated complications.<p>

Turning her stiff neck to Lucius, she was relieved to see soft puffs of clouded air quietly emitting from where his lips were positioned. Letting her heavily concerned heart sink back into her chest, she sighed; a deep breath of relief. Had she expected Lucius to die? Yes, she had. Not from the result of his Splinching injury, but because of what happened in the Dark Lords chambers.

Hermione's body became plagued with a fleet of fearful shivers. He said that he had heard Voldemort's voice! Did that mean Voldemort was still alive? It seemed to be a possibility, what with everything else that had happened. Who the hell knew what would come next?

_No._ She shook her head. _I witnessed Harry kill him! There is no way he can still be alive._

And with no Horcruxes to fall back on, his soul was trapped in Limbo for all eternity, without any way for him to return; not as a ghost, a human or anything. He was gone.

But then why could Lucius hear him? And why had _she_ not heard him?

Those were questions best left without answers for now; or so she thought.

With the beautiful and invigorating sunlight now pouring in heavily through the crooked windows, Hermione crept into the kitchen in no less than six steps. The kitchen was chaos; heaving with what looked like the aftermath of a deranged food fight. The floor was an ocean of pots, pans, defective china and rusted cutlery.

_Who would live somewhere like this?_

Hermione gagged and struggled to keep the bile down. Good job she hadn't eaten anything for a long time, otherwise there would be no hope. Although, if she had of been sick you would probably never be able to tell. The walls were littered with the splattered remains of rotting food, giving the room an overall scent of festering sick anyway.

When her sick to the stomach urge had diminished, she got to work on tidying the kitchen. First with magic, then with Muggle supplies and once again with magic for good measure. If they were going to be spending their time here from now on – and that was more than likely – then she may as well make the most of what little space they had and if that meant literally bathing the house in Muggle cleaning products, then so be it.

* * *

><p>Lucius slept for almost the entire day.<p>

He awoke not once – not even when Hermione managed to spill the entire contents of one kitchen cupboard onto the hard flagstone tiles, almost shaking the flimsy foundations of the cottage to total destruction. Her ears were left ringing with less than incentive aftershocks and upon checking to see if Lucius had been woken up by the havoc, she soon found out that he had slept through the blaring explosion of pots and pans. Snoring lightly, his face was soft and calm in his _still_ sleeping form. Not that she minded though, if that noise wasn't enough to wake Lucius in the adjoining room, then it would hardly attract the attention of any unwanted cannibalistic visitors.

_God, he could sleep through a nuclear bomb! _She thought. _Speaking of bombs…_

Hermione couldn't remember hearing anything following the assumed explosion of Malfoy Manor. That is what Lucius had called it, wasn't it? _A Magical Bomb?_ Then surely she would have been able to hear some sort of explosion? Or maybe they were too far away to hear the impact? Who knew?

It became apparent that she had never even heard of 'A Magical Bomb' and her Know-It-All tendencies were faltered.

Distracted by a muffled groan, she quickened her pace towards Lucius on the couch, only for disappointment to drown her hopes of him waking up when he tossed and turned in his unconscious state.

_Dreaming?_ She wondered. _Or maybe nightmares? Yes, nightmares seem more likely._

Her nightmares consisted of the dreadful beings that lurked somewhere outside; the ones that had chased her in Diagon Alley. Did Lucius dream of the same? Hermione expected so.

She turned her attention on his features, leaning ever so slightly to sweep a path of hair away from his temple. She admired his slightly dishevelled state, her fingers sweeping over the dusting of stubble. Although she would never admit to anyone, she rather liked having Lucius at her mercy. It was the cherry on top of their situation.

She could do anything she liked to him and there was not a thing he could do.

Her mind began conjuring up thoughts of the thousands various things she could do to him.

_Kill him? Don't be ridiculous, I could never kill him…_

_Strip him?_ She laughed into the quietness. His shirt was already half open but the idea of Lucius waking up in his birthday suit, completely oblivious to how it happened did sound rather amusing.

_Cut his hair? Dye his hair? He'd kill me if I did that! _Lucius Malfoy plus bright pink hair? As funny as it would be, wasn't the best combination…

_Kiss him?_

She froze in horror at the thought that randomly made itself known in her mind.

Her hands were ripped off him in a nanosecond as she ran into the kitchen to resume cleaning, all the time knowing her face might burn away with the rising heat.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

Having those sort of thoughts about _Lucius Malfoy_ were off the agenda!

But she couldn't deny that he was… well, gorgeous. Even caked in dried blood and mud, with a day's worth of stubble and his long blonde hair hanging straggly over the sofa; he was a rather fine looking man. And especially when he had begged to her in only his towel, dripping wet from his shower…

_So? _She replied in her mind. _Lots of boys at Hogwarts were good looking and that didn't mean that I wanted to… you know..._

Ah, but they had been just boys, and what do boys know about pleasing women?

"Oh God!" Hermione squeaked, as she bent down to the floor and carried on scrubbing at the stained tiles. She needed something to take her mind off the man in the next room.

* * *

><p>Hermione was wrong for once in her life, for Lucius was not dreaming of the demons that wreaked havoc in the world, but of something worse. Well, he would consider it worse.<p>

Fresh out of Azkaban, he sat in his former dining room, hands gripping his cane tightly and trying to stop his shivers from becoming visible to others. With Draco seated one side and Narcissa to the other, the Malfoy's sat at the huge table accommodating numerous Death Eaters and even the Dark Lord himself.

"Lucius," His entire body stiffened at the sound of his name passing his masters barely-there lips. "What a precious situation to find yourself in."

There was an uproar of snickering from amongst the followers and he was half tempted to join in. The situation was anything _but_ precious!

"You have greatly disappointed me, Lucius. Not only were you unsuccessful at gaining the Prophecy, you also got yourself captured because you couldn't handle Potter and his pathetic excuse of an army." The tension was so thick it could be cut by a knife. "All of whom were nothing more than pimply adolescences."

He was certain he heard a shrill giggle belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange, but his mind was buzzing so much he wasn't even sure. To his left, Draco sucked in a fearful breath, catching the Dark Lords unwanted attention.

"Ahh, young Malfoy, whatever shall we do with your father?" Voldemort remained seated at the head of the table, his condescending eyes boring into Draco's from the other side of the room. "I cannot let his failings fade away without punishment. Somehow, I don't think Azkaban was enough."

Lucius could hear his son take another shaky breath, making it difficult to keep his own intakes to a steady pace. But he cared not for his own probable demise, but for his family's safety.

"Narcissa," The Dark Lord now turned upon Lucius' blonde wife. "I feel as if I cannot hold you responsible and being that you are sister to the loyal Bellatrix Lestrange, I believe it is only fair that you should be left out of this punishment."

Narcissa, seemingly calm and collected, managed to let out an almost inaudible; "Thank you, my Lord."

"Lucius, Draco. Step forward to receive your punishment."

Lucius almost blanked out, the pressure and realisation of the situation dawned on him like a deathly plague. _What has Draco done?_

As if reading Lucius' mind, the Dark Lord answered. "Let's not forget little Draco's failings as well. Perhaps not succeeding in killing Dumbledore rings a bell?"

Draco turned paler than snow.

"My Lord, please," He stammered his words. "H-he is just a boy. I can take his punishment. I beg of you to reconsider?"

"Just a boy, you say?" Voldemort hissed. "Your son bears my mark, Lucius. He has tortured his fair amount of traitors and Muggles, a feat unworthy of any boy. He will take his punishment like the man he has become."

There was nothing Lucius or anyone could do to bargain with Voldemort. The snake-like man had made up his mind and everyone knew that what he had decided is what would be. It was a waste of effort and breath to say anything else.

Gripping his hands into tight white fists, Lucius forced himself to stand up and walk towards his 'master'. He left his cane and wand at the table; it wasn't like he would actually need it now.

Draco followed his father solemnly, face turned downwards so as not to see the amusement that was undoubtedly plastered on the rest of the Death Eaters faces. He tried to drown out the hushed sobs of his mother and the delighted squeals of his deranged aunt. He willed his eyes to become unseeing, but he still saw the hem of the Dark Lords robes as he reached his fate.

"Look at me, boy."

The crimson of his Lords eyes were only visible for meagre seconds before his entire mind was painted over with the sickening red embers of pain.

Lucius watched as his son collapsed to the floor with a piercing cry of agony.

"Draco…" He twisted his voice into a barely spoken whisper.

"_Crucio!"_

And his mind, body and entire world became plagued with the onslaught of pain. Every fibre, tissue and organ gave the illusion that they were tearing apart, burning and dissolving away into nothingness.

The room was drowned with the pained screams of him and his son, but all Lucius could hear was his silent whispers of, "_Draco…"_ Over and over in his head.

* * *

><p>Lucius awoke to psychedelic whirlwind of pain, a perfect reflection of his dream. His bones and stiff joints were plagued with an ache that seemed to begin in his heart and extend to the tips of his fingers. A deep groan sounded in his throat as he tried to move his throbbing body into a sitting position. He tried again, only to wince in gruesome pain and promptly lay his head back onto the couch.<p>

He was dead tired, _still_. He'd slept for fifteen hours straight, yet he still felt as though he'd been run over by the Hogwarts Express and simultaneously been trampled on by that oaf Hagrid.

_Where the hell am I?_

Grey, inquisitive eyes raked the shabby interior of the little cottage.

_Muggles. _He thought, disgusted. No witch or wizard would keep their home as filthy as where he was. _Or actually,_ He thought again with a slight smirk. _I can think of many that might…_

But he knew this place undoubtedly belonged to Muggles – or had done once. The peculiar, box-like objects with wires and allsorts sticking out from nooks and crannies were obviously of Muggle manufacture.

Disgusted, he looked away from the hideous contraptions and onto himself. His shirt was carelessly hanging open, ripped at the seams and exposing his rather fine chest and… was that _blood?_

_Good God, has the girl ravished me in my sleep?_

He stifled a laugh. _Of course not, she's far too prudish._

And then he remembered.

The Dark Lord's room. The Dark Lord's _voice_ in his head. The bomb. And finally, the Splinching. Everything was black and forgotten after that.

_Oh Merlin…_

This was bad. Really, really bad.

His home was gone, obliterated into nothingness, along with his family.

He wanted to bury his head into the pillow and weep. Yes, Lucius Malfoy wanted to cry, despite everything. His upbringing had taught him that men who cry were weak and pathetic, Purebloods especially, but how was one supposed to keep calm and composed at every moment? Weren't you supposed to cry at times of hopelessness?

He swallowed his sorrow and breathed in deeply. He couldn't lose himself in front of the girl. Speaking of which, where was she?

He could her rattling away in another room, or he hoped it was her, but his unfocused eyes could not fall upon her.

"Miss Granger?" He asked groggily, his voice hoarse with the tendrils of sleep.

On hearing a wearisome voice call out for her, Hermione dropped all she was doing and speedily ran into the living room, dropping to her knees at Lucius' side.

"Do you feel alright?" She gasped, aiding him in sitting up and propping a pillow behind his back. "Is your arm hurting? Do you feel faint, sick, dizzy-"

Lucius silenced her with one long fingertip against her lips, freezing Hermione mid-sentence. She reacted by pulling away violently, without saying anything and willing her cheeks not to flush.

"Miss Granger, I am fine." He lied in a soft voice. "A little shaken as can be expected but please do us both a favour and stop your incessant worrying." He flashed a toothy smile before saying, "You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

Feeling relief wash over her body, she eased herself onto the nearest sofa, sitting opposite Lucius.

They sat in silence for several moments, allowing their ears to fill with the calming pattering of raindrops against the cottage.

"Do you know where we are?" Asked the ever-inquisitive Hermione.

"You'll forgive me if I told you I don't know where we are either. My head was… all over the place." He told her truthfully, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa.

"That's okay. Probably why you Splinched yourself."

"Never in my forty-five years have I Splinched myself."

She smiled. "Always the arrogant one, aren't you?" Lucius Malfoy was Lucius Malfoy again.

Of course he was. He may have been reduced to living like a filthy, disgusting Muggle, but that didn't mean he was obliged to act like one. His haughty ways would never cease.

"A Malfoy never loses their arrogance." He repeated just the way his father had told him so many years before. But maybe he had lost his arrogant streak? Here he was, surviving with a Muggle-born! That meant something, surely?

"Says the man who begged to a Mudblood." She countered, mimicking his smirk and completely ignoring that she had just called herself the filthy 'M' word.

_Well if that's how she wants to play… _A gruff voice mumbled in his head as he straightened himself as much as physically possible without exploding in pain. "Be careful Miss Granger, or you might just find that your memories of that particular event disappear."

Hermione's mouth formed a small 'o'. "You wouldn't?"

"With being bedridden and in pain, who knows what I'm capable of." _Not to mention that I was a Death Eater and I did once despise Mudbloods…_

Hermione felt her heart dance nervously. He was joking, right?

_Of course he is! I think…_

"Well," she muttered, quickly changing the subject. "I've found some clothes, if you want some. It's just you've been wearing those for almost two days, so I thought you'd like to change."

"I appreciate your efforts but you seem to forget that I am a wizard and can easily transfigure my own." He then added. "Besides, I've been longer without fresh clothes." _And Muggle isn't really my style…_

That made Hermione almost gasp in shock. Lucius Malfoy; _Slytherin, rich bastard, aristocrat…_ Call him what you want, someone as privileged as _he_ surely wouldn't have gone longer than a day without changing his attire?

"I don't believe you." She said with a cocky grin. "Name me one time you went longer than one week without changing."

"Azkaban." He answered simply and casually. Truth be told, his time in that God awful place had not been _simple_ and _casual_, it had been… _Awful, detestable, horrific, abominable…_ Words could not describe what he truly thought of it. But, his time there had been spent and was a thing of the past, albeit a very dark part of the past.

Hermione was too polite to ask what it was like inside that place, plus she had heard numerous detailed accounts from the late Sirius Black and from the images her mind had concocted, she knew it to be simply horrific. Perhaps the people inside didn't deserve to be treated as bad as they were…

_No, no, no! What am I thinking? Having sympathy for prisoners; Death Eaters!_

But Lucius was a Death Eater – _had been_ – and, given the circumstances, she no longer wished that he was rotting in Azkaban. Just think, if he had been banished to Azkaban, she would most likely be dead right now.

Changing the subject _again_, she asked; "Would you mind, umm, telling me more about the Magical Bomb?

"You're wondering why you've never heard about it before and therefore know nothing of it, aren't you?"

She gave a small, bashful cough. "Yes…"

"Perhaps you're not the Know-It-All everyone believed you to be?" His tone was hard and serious but when he smiled, Hermione knew there was nothing harmful in it.

"The Magical Bomb was created by the Dark Lord. I have absolutely no idea how it works, only that whatever it is placed upon will be destroyed. And not in the same way as other bombs. It obliterates an object or place completely, without the use of explosions. I suppose a good way to describe it would be that everything appears to dissolve rapidly. Anything in its presence will be destroyed."

Hermione was speechless. Everything Lucius had ever owned was gone, without a trace. He was left with nothing, save for what he had on him; his wand and clothes. All family heirlooms, items of personal interests were gone and he could never get them back.

"The late Bellatrix Lestrange told me all about the Dark Lord's great inventions. There was the _Sanguis Adficio_ which would drain you of all bodily fluids until you were nothing more than dry bones. And there was another that would cause you to fester away into a corpse." He looked down at his hands that were covered with small patches of dried blood and dirt. "The Dark Lord would test out his inventions on captured Muggles and often he would make me… dispose of them if something was unsuccessful."

He closed his eyes to drown out the images of some of the things he had seen. In particular he remembered a small boy, no older than seven or eight, with blonde hair and grey eyes – or what were the remains of blonde hair and grey eyes. He'd been sent to clean up after the Dark Lords attempt at creating a new curse and had been met with one of the most gruesome and saddening sights he'd ever seen.

He'd been so disturbed that he had cried and cried until he had made himself sick. Perhaps it was the notion that this boy had had such a striking resemblance to his own son, or maybe it was his age? No child should have to meet a fate like that. Ever.

"Lucius?"

He opened his eyes.

Hermione's worried face was inches from his own.

"Are you okay?" She said quietly, stretching her hand out to his but not actually touching.

He took a long, deep breath of calm air. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Would you like anything?"

"Would a bath and then some food be too much trouble?"

She smiled. "No that's fine. I'll go prepare something for both of us to eat. By the way; there were loads of spiders in the bathroom before I cleaned it so they may have gotten back in."

He chuckled. "You think I'm scared of spiders? Believe me Miss Granger; I have bigger things to fear than spiders."

"Shut up and have a bath you arrogant man."

He stood up with a groan and a stretch and said; "But aren't you going to help me? I might be too weak and end up drowning. Surely you know never to let a weak man bathe on his own?"

How he loved teasing her…

"You just managed to stand up on your own, I'm sure you don't need me to help you in and out the bath."

In a playful and mocking tone, he said; "But how on Earth am I supposed to wash my back?"

Hermione took his wand out of her pocket – which she'd taken off him when he'd been unconscious – and threw it at him from across the room. His sharp reflexes meant that he caught it perfectly, but with the negative effect that it felt as if his arm may snap off.

Hermione simply replied. "You're a wizard. You can do it yourself." And with that she turned into the kitchen, leaving a somewhat impressed and confound Lucius to his own musings.

* * *

><p>A week had passed and, curse wise, no progress had been made whatsoever. They both thought it best to get to know their new surroundings and 'home', and Hermione had spent her time thoroughly cleaning it – with both magic and Muggle cleaning products.<p>

Lucius had spent his time doing nothing much. His wound had healed with not one blemish to his pale skin and his headaches had dulled to a light ache, as well as the rest of his body. But, of course, Hermione kept fussing over him. It was in her kind nature to help out anyone in need and it was a little like hunting for the Horcruxes again – with the major difference of having Lucius Malfoy with her and not her two best friends.

So, with Hermione being the new Patron saint of healing, Lucius had been ordered (and in his opinion; rudely) to rest because he would need his energy reserves. And so he had done as she asked, even though in any other circumstances he would have Hexed the bitch who dared to order him around.

Lazing around was a blessing and a curse for Lucius, but probably more of a curse. The good thing was that it meant he wasn't obliged to help Hermione out. Yes, he had changed his ways but there was no way he was going to clean, especially not with _Muggle_ cleaning products and in a house that wasn't his. It was a curse, however, because he was bored. So, so, so, so, _so_ bored!

He detested being bored, to the point that he had nearly gone and asked to help with the cleaning but his Malfoy pride and arrogance had stopped him from doing so.

He had to admire the girls work though. Aesthetically the cottage (or shack) looked no different. The vibrant oranges and yellows were almost too bright to see past. By God, wizards were so much more sophisticated. He could hate Muggles for their foul decorating alone. However, on closer inspection you could clearly see that the blankets of dust had been swept away and every room seemed to have the faint aroma of lemon. A smell that, despite Muggle-made, he didn't mind.

After finishing reading the chapter on the _'__Genus Hominum Extremitas' _for what felt like the hundredth time, Lucius found himself in need of company.

The sort of company he wasn't sure Hermione Granger would give him, but he hoped with a bit of coercion, she may be willing to satisfy his body's needs.

Along with regaining his strength, he also found that so did his ever-increasing sexual appetite. Sex with a Muggle-born was something he had never fulfilled and the idea excited him as much as Christmas Day would to a child. His past-beliefs taught him that any feelings of a sexual nature towards a Mudblood were sick and looked down upon. He would have been referred to as a Blood traitor for doing such a thing mere years ago.

But now he could care less about that. He wanted Hermione Granger and he was going to have her. _I think I'm entitled to such comforts._

With sex on his mind, he rose from the couch and descended to the kitchen; where Hermione seemed to spend most of her time cooking or cleaning.

Hearing Lucius' footsteps into the kitchen, she nervously let out; "I'm just making dinner."

"I can see that." Lucius replied sardonically, moving closer to Hermione who was now bent over slightly, straining generous amounts of pasta, giving the blonde wizard a spectacular view of her jean covered rear. He had to give some credibility to Muggles for their clothing. Wizard's robes could never give such a nice view to someone's backside.

His devious thoughts were interrupted by Hermione asking if he was feeling any better.

He watched the girl obsessing over their supper; making sure that every scraping of pasta sauce was added to the steaming pasta. She certainly didn't want to waste anything and therefore wasn't paying enough attention to notice that Lucius had closed the gap between them and was now very much invading her personal space.

"A little." He eventually answered. Obviously, he was feeling _much_ better but he liked it when she fussed over him. Oh he liked that _a lot._

"I can give you some more potions or even a Muggle alternative, if you'd like?" She asked nonchalantly.

"That will not be necessary. I can think of something better…" He murmured huskily into her ear and then let his lips descend upon the exposed and vulnerable skin of her neck. Softly at first, they soon became more urgent and desperate against her flesh that was now coated in a fresh sheet of goose bumps.

He had to admit that, although Muggle-born, Hermione Granger was a beautiful woman. When he'd first come across her in Diagon Alley, she had been nothing more than an irritating little chit, but during their time together he'd truly been able to appreciate her womanly charms. And that had only been one month ago.

_Merlin, one month and already I want to fuck her._ That really made him feel like an infernal and hormonal school boy.

Hermione froze solid in the surreal atmosphere that had somehow presented itself to her, her skin had prickled the moment his lips collided and she felt a deep shudder ripple inside her, leaving her tummy on fire with butterflies.

What _was_ he doing?

She may be a prude, but it was all too obvious what was going on. Lucius Malfoy was kissing her! Okay, so he his lips were on her neck and not her lips but it was kissing nonetheless!

And worst was that with every nip and caress of his lips, she found herself immensely enjoying his ministrations and wanting – dare she think it? – more!

Their situation was messed up to the point of disaster but could this be any more surreal? Her head was dizzying, she felt hot all over and within the confusion she found herself asking; "What are you doing?"

He withdrew and murmured; "Thanking you." Immediately pressing another kiss to the Hermione's neck, massaging the soft skin with his lips as his arms wound around her midsection, pulling her tight and flush against him and giving her a startling taster of his nether regions; pressed hard and hot against her bottom.

She gasped; overwhelmed with the tight knot that was beginning to form in her stomach. His masculine scent – uniquely Lucius – was wafting so luxuriously into her nostrils but she didn't know if she could do this.

"No," She whispered. "I can't-"

"Don't try to fool yourself, Hermione." He buried his hand under the layers of her bulky clothing, and raised it upwards, letting it glide across the flat planes of her stomach before it met the barrier that was her bra. With one swift manoeuvre, his fingers deftly pushed themselves underneath the metal wiring and trailed higher, until at long last, he was cupping the soft mound of her breast.

Ignoring the tightness in her chest, Hermione felt her nipples peak at the contact and let out one deep, breathy sigh. She shivered against his touch, but gone was the nervousness she had always assumed she would feel when being touched so intimately for the first time; and instead it had been replaced with a sensual desire to feel more.

Lucius let out a lusty groan and couldn't help but think how perfectly she fit in his hand. Soft, supple and warm; _oh so warm._

He leaned further forwards, his nose skimming the flushed skin belonging to the crux of her neck and he inhaled deeply. He was rewarded with the sharp, captivating aroma of Hermione; unlike any other woman, she smelled sweet and zesty. _Perfect._

She wanted this; he could smell it on her. But the question was; would she let him? He'd already made a pact with himself that he wouldn't force himself upon her. He was above such ruthlessness as sexual assault, in fact, he couldn't think of a less satisfying way to take her. He liked his women willing; and willing she would be.

He couldn't even begin to worry that their blood was not of the same type. All he cared about was achieving the completion his mind and body was so desperately crying out for.

But as usual, something got in the way.

Suddenly, as if the switch to the sensible and logical part of her mind had been switched on, common sense reappeared.

_Are you mad? He's Lucius Malfoy! He hates your kind and is only using you! You can't let him do this!_

Common sense indeed. What the hell _was_ she doing? This was Lucius Malfoy she was pressed against, with his hand up her top. It was wrong! _Sick!_

She felt disgusted with herself that she would willingly let him do this to her. He was old enough to be her father, he was her _enemy's_ father and whether he was the last man on Earth or not, she wouldn't let him.

To think that for one minute she actually started to enjoy it…

But it had felt good. _Really good_ and all he'd done was touch one breast and kiss her neck. _Think how good it would feel if he'd-_

_No! _She could not and _would_ not think about such things ever again.

Now she felt embarrassed at the current situation she was in and her heart beat sped up, rapidly smashing against her chest. No doubt _he_ could feel it.

With his hand still at her left breast, she pulled away from him far as she could without walking into the kitchen counters. Lucius let go of her abruptly and she turned around to face him, awkwardly pulling her top down as far as it would go.

She felt her eyes fill with tears and wiped at them with her sleeve, feeling ashamed, pathetic, stupid, gullible… The list went on and on.

Lucius supressed a roll of his eyes. _Now she's going to sulk and cry and blame me for taking advantage. Well this is just fucking brilliant. _He thought.

"Miss Granger?"

She looked up into his grey eyes, expecting to see them glitter with mock but instead she found that they were unreadable.

_What do you want? _She wanted to snap at him but found that her lips couldn't move and that her tears had progressed to fat sobs and hysterical shudders.

"Just…" She sniffed heavily. "Leave me alone."

"Don't go."

He wasn't surprised to hear that there was no answer and Hermione pushed past him, storming out of the kitchen and slamming the door behind her without as much as a backward glance.

Lucius shut his eyes, wondering just where they might be if things hadn't taken a turn for the worse.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__So I don't really like where this ends but I just cba to write anymore for this chapter. I hope you liked it because that groping scene was kinda hard for me to write!_

_I'd also like to apologise at how bloody long this has taken to get to you! Summer holidays have been over for 2 weeks and I'm now starting my A-levels and they are SOOOO hard and time consuming! I also got my GCSE results. I was so pleased with them! So anyway, updates might not be as regular anymore because I really have so much work to do! :(_

_As always, I'd like to thank all who have reviewed and given this story so much attention! I really love writing it and from what I hear most of you like reading it to, so that's always good ;)_

_xxx_


	8. Unless You've Got No Choice

::-::-::** Chapter 8 **::-::-::

* * *

><p>For all of Octobers gloom and glumness, the morning dawned with a stupendous brightness, lighting up the side of the world that was no longer in the blackness of sleep – assuming they <em>did<em> sleep. The harsh light crept in easily through the chinks in windows; scattering beams ablaze throughout the room.

Hermione's freshly awoken eyes scanned the room consciously, but paid no attention to the blonde man fast asleep on the opposite couch.

_Good, _she thought. _I hope he never wakes up!_

The night before had been far from amusing. Awkward glances and conflicting thoughts consumed the entire time after their little… _fumbling_ in the kitchen and the perplexing silence hadn't lifted since.

It was, as Hermione would describe it, wonderful and loathsome at the same time. Glad that she hadn't had to speak to Lucius and that the disappointed look etched onto his face was rather funny, but it was almost unbearable to not to talk to anyone – especially when you know that they may be the last person on Earth.

Could they afford to ignore each other all of the time when, in fact, they may not have that much time left?

Hermione shook that thought out of her head, knowing that she and Lucius would most likely resume speaking the moment he woke up. She almost gagged at the thought but it would have to be that way. How else were they supposed to continue what they had teamed up to do in the first place?

Pulling on the pair of old boots she had transfigured from two cups, Hermione traipsed into the kitchen, purposely avoiding looking at the area where she had been preparing dinner last night (the unprepared remains of said dinner were as they were left) and slipped out of the back door.

To anyone, it may have looked as if she were running away, but as tempting as that idea sounded, that was not her plan. She just wanted air. Simple. She needed to get out of the stuffy confines of the little cottage where hopefully she could momentarily forget about last night's occurrence and its repercussions.

Never once did she stop to think or care about the creatures outside and quite honestly, she would have preferred an encounter with one as opposed to facing Lucius in his conscious state.

She just needed an escape from everything. No matter how brief that escape may be.

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy awoke to the blinding sensation of guilt, feeling as though he had been struck by iniquity.<p>

Once again Hermione Granger was making him feel like this and once again he hated it.

How she had the ability to make him feel like something inside was being torn in half was completely beyond him, not even his previous wife, Narcissa, had fully possessed this ability and she was the one he turned to most of all during the terrible last year of the war.

Hermione most certainly had the ability to play on his mind, perhaps more than she realised.

So that's it then? He was falling for her or beginning to care about her? Was that how she managed to make him feel like he'd never felt before?

_Don't be ridiculous! A Muggle-born? I may no longer care for blood status and purity but there is no chance of me ever feeling anything more than tolerance of her._

The thought of Lucius Malfoy falling in love with a Muggle-born, one he'd wished dead at that, didn't seem sickening to him anymore. No, it sounded so beyond the realms of this world that it was ludicrous. Hilarious, in fact and he couldn't help himself from chortling like a perverted schoolboy.

And the fact that he had wanted to have sex with her did not imply anything of the sort. Sex and love were two very different things. Of course, they were very closely related and sex and love often come together in loving relationships but in the Pureblood world Lucius was from, sex and love were rarely used in the same sentence together. He had not married for love, nor did he know another Pureblood who had.

So it didn't matter if he did want to have sex with Hermione. He was a man, a man with needs and no other way but for the girl to satisfy those needs. Maybe there were other ways, hands, for example, and often Lucius' own hands would find themselves hot and sticky and dripping with his seeds but hands could only get a man so far. Lucius knew that very well indeed.

He knew his mind was being utterly selfish in the reasoning of his needs but he also knew that almost any other man in his situation with a young girl, Muggle-born or not, would find themselves in the same difficult situation.

Could he really be blamed?

Well, Hermione might think so.

A thought more important than his sexual frustration suddenly came to his mind. _Where is the girl?_

He twisted his head to the side but only a cold, empty bed and blankets were in place of Hermione.

He laid for a time in intense solitude and silence. It was quiet, too quiet. Whatever she would be doing, surely she would be making some kind of noise? And there were no mouth-watering aromas of a cooking breakfast wafting luxuriously through the air.

Inhaling with a sharp panic, Lucius sat up and pulled the blanked from his black-clad body.

"Miss Granger?"

When he didn't get an answer he called again, "Miss Granger?"

Still no answer.

_If she thinks ignoring me is going to make this better than she is sorely mistaken…_

But she was not ignoring him, Lucius knew.

She wasn't in the house.

The guilt hit him like a splash of fresh water. He'd made her do this, hadn't he? He'd driven her run away and put herself in danger because of… Well he knew why, but he was awfully ashamed to say it.

A huge blast of wind outside rattled the hinges of the back door, and the clanking resounded through the desolation.

Lucius swallowed thickly and made his way to the heavy door.

_Surely she wouldn't really have gone outside?_

His hand gripped at the rusted door handle, twisting it until it clicked and creaked as he pushed it open.

Barely there footprints engraved the dusting of frost.

_Oh, Miss Granger, you stupid, stupid girl… _

He picked up his wand and swept from the little cottage, leaving its warmth and safety behind him.

* * *

><p>Hermione stamped onwards in the freezing air, vexed and pushing all elements of anger out of her system with the heavy steps she was treading into the icy ground. She still couldn't work out whether she was most upset with Lucius or herself, but it didn't matter because hopefully the anger would be gone soon.<p>

_Of course it's him you're upset with!_

But then why did she feel like it was her own fault for allowing what happened yesterday _to_ happen?

She breathed a deep sigh of meddling confusion. Being outside was lovely in its own ways, but it didn't give her enough freedom to rid her mind of the irritating and paradoxical emotions that she so wanted to shed.

The power she needed to face Lucius was there, it was getting stronger with each new step, she just wasn't sure if her rationale would allow her to.

What would have happened if her logic hadn't reappeared in that moment? Would she have found herself tangled amongst the sheets, sweaty and sated from a quick, senseless shag with Lucius Malfoy?

The very thought filled her with a thick and impervious guilt. How could she be so selfish and foolish? A quick and meaningless shag is all it would have been. Lucius would not care for her afterwards; he _did not_ care for her now. He would have taken what he wanted and discarded her like a cheap, dolled up Knockturne Alley tart.

_Now wait,_ something inside told her. _Do you not remember what he said to you the day he found you in Diagon Alley? He said that he needed you! You both need each other to get this world back to normal and he's not going to risk throwing away your intelligence, is he? _

Hermione could remember his words… _"You need me now and I... need you."_

But… She could just imagine the looks on people's faces if they had seen them last night… Harry's, Ron's, Professor McGonagall's, Mrs Weasely's, her parent's… She pictured them all standing in a line, the same patronizing frown defining their faces and silent shakes of their heads to each other.

What would they think of her, knowing that she had almost lain with a man old enough to be her father, a man who once had a son the same age as her, a man who would have once tried to destroy all traces of her existence?

_Gods, I'm disgraceful and pathetic!_

She wished she could keep walking now and evade every trace of Lucius Malfoy from her mind and think of nothing but her happiness before everything had turned sour. But she could not. The promise she'd made to herself and the forgotten souls in the world wouldn't let her do that.

_Crunch, crunch._

Hermione stopped abruptly. Her frozen toes and feet forced themselves to stand stock still as her equally cold ears picked up the noise coming from behind her. Footsteps.

She didn't even bother to turn around.

"If that's you, _Mr Malfoy, _then would you please be so kind as to drag your sorry arse back to the house. I came out here for some peace."

No answer.

"So you have nothing to say to me, do you?" She gave a sarcastic little laugh. "I'm quite surprised you managed to resist a snarky comment of some sort."

Still ignoring the person behind, Hermione continued to walk away. Every step took her closer and closer to the periphery of the forest and further and further away from the sanctity of the cottage.

And then she was given an answer.

But it wasn't Lucius. Or human.

_Oh my God… _Her mind was a jumbled mess of horror and fear, and she felt her limbs snap together, frozen solid.

Hermione's heart jolted in its cage as the first of many baneful snarls echoed in her ears.

_Wand, wand…_

Her shaking hands fumbled inside her coat pocket, only to find that her hands did not come into contact with the yielding, wooden tip of her wand. _No, no, no… I can't have left it in the house!_

Her stomach sunk into the ground as she turned, coming face to face with what would most likely be her killer.

It was a man. Tall with dark, uncut hair, straggly and matted with something that was most likely to be blood. He wore no shirt or shoes, only trousers, and his abdomen was littered with open sores and filth, the red and black standing out vividly against alabaster skin. His mouth hung open, liquid oozing.

The stench of death wafted sickeningly into Hermione's constricting nostrils and a sudden, overwhelming urge to run away as fast as she could sprung to mind.

But her legs would not move.

And before any other logical thought could come to Hermione, her head was overcome with hazy pain as it hit the ground and the man was on top of her, pinning and restraining her with a force that didn't seem possible.

"Help!"

All she could see was crimson as the liquid gushed from his mouth, splattering her face with death and the damage from one sick man's obsession with power.

Her arms were free, scratching and pushing and doing anything to rid her of the thing on top of her.

But despite the obvious malnutrition of the being, no movement or push was strong enough to stop it.

And at the time when Hermione thought she was going to die, she couldn't help thinking how she wanted nothing more than the help of Lucius Malfoy at that moment.

* * *

><p>Several minutes passed and Lucius still had no idea of where the girl had gotten to. The footprints lasted only a few yards north of the cottage and were impossible to distinguish with the Sun's irradiating heat melting the already light frost.<p>

But he would not give up.

No matter how much the doubtful part of his mind told him that she was long gone and had been a nice breakfast for one of the creatures, he would not let that part control his thoughts.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy would not give up looking for Muggle-born Hermione Granger because to do so would be sending himself to an early grave.

He pushed his legs to move faster, forced his eyes to keep a sharp look out for the girl.

And then he saw something in this distance, he heard noises too, screams and cries calls for help.

_It's her!_

He sprinted towards her, most unbecoming for a Malfoy to do such a thing but not that Lucius really cared about his actions at that moment.

He just wanted to save the girl – even if that did seem a little ironic and hypocritical to him.

As he got closer he saw the figure on top of her, pinning the small girl to the cold ground and he could see it trying to bite at her.

He raised his wand and-

* * *

><p>"<em>Avada Kedavra!" <em>

The man dropped to the lifeless forest ground, drained of the evil that had once possessed him as well as life.

Hermione managed to see her saviour as the final wisps of green light dispersed.

It was Lucius.

But then again, who else did she expect it to be?

Hermione didn't know how to feel. She thought that maybe he might not have cared about and just left her to die on her own when he realised that she wasn't in the house, but he didn't. He _saved_ her. A Muggle-born.

He darted towards her shivering form, not sure whether he should be consumed by anger or relief. That didn't stop him voicing what he thought of her at that moment.

"You stupid, _stupid_ girl!" he hissed, the breath puffing out in little clouds.

Hermione closed her eyes. He sounded angrier than Hermione had ever known him to be; as if all the suppressed hatred he had felt towards her had been unleashed from its flimsy bottle.

But to her surprise he did not automatically use some kind of lethal hex on her. Instead he did something completely shocking and surprising to the both of them; something so unexpected that it almost felt like a hex.

Lucius dropped to the ground and pulled Hermione into his arms, cradling her like a wounded child, protective and warming.

Hermione didn't stiffen and gave no thought that the man holding her was the reason she had gone outside in the first place. She couldn't help it as she wept into his chest, a mixture of shock and fear and pure sadness.

And Lucius was too relived to even think twice about what he was doing. He did not care. Only that she was safe.

He knew if she died, the solitude would drive him to death.

"Were you trying to get yourself killed?" he murmured into her damp hair, feeling her shake and shudder in his arms.

His words filled her with a sudden dread. "N-no," she sobbed. "Why would you think that?"

"You came out here wandless and completely unprotected, what am I supposed to think?"

"I wanted to get away from you," she admitted. "But please don't leave me now. I'm so sorry for being a stupid arse yesterday and for going outside."

Lucius hardly knew how to react to anything Hermione was saying. Sympathy was not something that came natural to him, just like the guilt and he found himself almost babbling each word he thought of saying.

In the end he decided with a simple; "It's okay."

It was an odd and rare sight, to see a former Death Eater holding someone from the opposite side so comfortingly.

But at that moment, all thoughts of the surreal situation evaded them along with actually giving a damn about the oddness.

Their small moment of comfort soon came to an end when loud hisses and screeches arose from the horizon.

"We need to get back. More of them are coming and I'd rather not be out here when they do."

Panicked, Hermione asked; "What if they get in the house?"

"They won't."

Lucius carefully pulled Hermione to her feet and they made their journey back to the house quietly and carefully, hearing the deathly howls behind them the entire time.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Hermione would have done anything to avoid talking to Lucius Malfoy; eaten Flobberworms, maybe even flown on a broomstick but now she would give anything <em>to<em> talk to him.

And fortunately for her she had the opportunity. But no one was speaking.

Lucius sat opposite, across the small, cramped living room that also served as their bedroom. He sat elegant and refined with one leg crossed over the other stylishly, tapping his fingers against the cool silver snakehead of his wand.

Hermione sat almost the same, albeit less refined with her posture slack and exhausted from the encounter with the creature. She was nervous for unknown reasons to herself, mostly embarrassment for thinking she could go outside on her own and not end up being attacked. She could feel the bruises beginning to form and knew they would serve as a reminder to never do the same thing again.

"Before we talk about anything," Lucius let out first, breaking the awkward and deluding silence. "I think we need to establish a few rules."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"No going outside without a wand, unless you've got no choice."

She knew it was an absolutely stupid thing she had done. To go outside wandless was a suicide mission and if Lucius had never tried to find her then she wouldn't still be alive. She would be a bloody mess of bones and ripped flesh. The thought of what could have happened made Hermione clutch her wand tremendously tight.

Lucius' refined tone spoke again; "No going outside alone, again, unless you've got no choice." He paused, pondering on what else to say. "And last, no going anywhere in the dark-"

"Unless you've got no choice." Hermione said for him with a smirk.

Lucius smiled. "I hope that will sink in."

"It has."

And then, for some reason unknown to Hermione, the silence returned. That God awful and condescending silence where you just know that the other person is thinking about you. The silence was almost worse than the screams of the undead.

_He said we were going to talk, so why isn't he talking?_

Then it hit her. He wanted her to start the conversation. Why; she didn't know or care but she had a feeling that if she didn't, they'd be sat in silence all night.

She cleared her throat, obtaining his attention. "Do you think it would be wise to talk about finding the book? I feel like I'm letting the world down with every minute we're losing."

Lucius voiced his approval with an enthusiastic; "Yes."

"Okay… Do you have any idea where it could be?"

He shook his head. "No."

Hermione felt the conversation slipping away again. "When Harry, Ron and I were searching for Horcruxes we didn't know where to look so we worked it out logically and in the end everything paid off. Of course we had some extra help from others which isn't really possible right now…"

Lucius nodded silently, not looking up, worried he would lose his line of thought.

"Logically…" Lucius murmured, more to himself than to Hermione. "Yes logically. The Dark Lord was a very logical man."

"Why do you still call him that?" Hermione asked in a somewhat soothing and innocent voice. "You don't have to anymore."

Lucius shrugged. "When you've been calling someone the same name for over twenty-five years it becomes a habit."

"Of course, but surely you must feel no satisfaction by calling him something that gives him honour?"

When Lucius thought about it, she was right. Where was his _own_ honour in calling Voldemort by that name? Where was the glory and social importance he had been promised all those years ago?

Voldemort deserved no honour and he never did, Lucius realised.

"You're right," he told her, holding her gaze. "So let's think like the _bastard! _What would he have done with the book? Bearing in mind that this book was very important to him."

_I don't know, _Hermione's throat was itching to say but she didn't want any more disappointment to come to them and at least they were on speaking terms now. This morning a glance at one another didn't even seem possible.

_Think Hermione, think! What did we do when we were searching for Horcruxes?_

And like a light had been turned on in her brain, something that was very much logical came to her.

"That's it!" She almost jumped out of her seat. "_Horcruxes!"_

Lucius' face was devoid of anything, save for one inquisitive, cocked eyebrow. "A Horcrux?"

"Yes! Well, no. The book obviously isn't a Horcrux but Voldemort hid his Horcruxes in places that were special to him and that held some significance to his past so that would mean he probably did the same with the book!"

He didn't know what to think. Would the book have even been important enough for Voldemort to consider hiding it like one of his Horcruxes?

Hermione answered his thought for him. "It may have been slightly less important than the Horcruxes but it was still an important part of his plan to rule the world, so it makes sense!"

Slightly stunned, Lucius shuffled in his seat while his mind did a similar shuffling of thoughts. Everything that Hermione had suggested seemed entirely brilliant and logical and it did seem like the most obvious thing the Dark Lo – the _bastard_ – would have done. There was the possibility that he might have destroyed the book but that didn't seem likely. Voldemort may have been delirious with his ideas but he would not have used the curse unless the creatures could be controlled, or so Lucius believed, and the book would give instructions regarding how to control them and so destroying it would have been a waste of time.

_Yes, _Lucius thought. _The old bastard most certainly wouldn't have destroyed it so she's got to be right. _

He knew that she was. She had to be, what other ideas did they have?

"You know, Miss Granger," he spoke in elusive tones. "I think you might just be right."

The glow inside Hermione grew, just like the smile outside.

But there was the problem of finding out _where_ the book was. It could be anywhere within the country, maybe within the whole world and the places they visited previously in search for the Horcruxes would serve no use to them now.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by Lucius' large finger raised in the air.

"I know what you're going to say, but we should sleep on this before our thoughts become too mixed up."

* * *

><p>Hermione could not sleep.<p>

Her mind was a paradoxical environment; a ceaseless battle of conflicting thoughts and rivalling emotions. It was like a paradox, in the morning she had hated Lucius, in the afternoon he was her hero and she'd wanted nothing more than to talk to him and now she was thinking of something completely different…

The kitchen. Or rather, what could have gone on in the kitchen…

Because now Hermione was thinking that she rather liked the feel of his hands fondling her breasts, his lips on her neck and his warm body pressed behind her.

And she tried not to think of everything her friends might say to her but she wanted more.

She was ready for it. Or at least she thought it was. It's amazing how an opinion can change on someone in less than one day and it seemed ludicrous that this morning she would have happily strangled Lucius Malfoy but now she was thinking that she would like him to show her more. She _wanted_ him to.

All of the voices were still going in her head. _But he's old enough to be your father! He'll only use you! Are you forgetting that he hates what you are!_

But she drowned them out with the new voices of encouragement._ You're both magical beings who will live to well over one hundred years old, age doesn't matter. He doesn't hate you anymore, he saved you and you don't save people you hate!_

Those voices were the ones she knew she had to follow because if she didn't she would never find out anything about what she had begun to discover the previous night in the kitchen.

He had given her a taste of it and now she wanted more.

"Lucius?" she whispered, not even thinking about what she was doing.

He didn't wake.

"Lucius?" It came out a fraction louder, waking him.

"What is it? Is something happening?" he mumbled in his discombobulated sleepy state.

"No, everything's fine. I just wanted to… talk."

He brought a hand up to his eyes and rubbed away the clouds of sleep. "About what?"

"About what happened yesterday."

The blonde man immediately sat upright, thrilled yet unsure at her sudden openness to discuss that… _event._

"Well, I… I… I wanted to say that I forgive you and that I won't hold it against you and that… that…"

"That…?" he asked impatiently, praying to Merlin that he didn't sound too desperate.

"If you want to… do that… then w-we can."

Lucius wasn't sure whether he was dreaming or whether the blurriness of sleep was distorting her words.

But he could see the trembling of her hands. He could smell her nerves on fire.

"Miss Granger, I know you don't want to. Look at you, you're shaking and you can't even bear to say the word-"

"No," she interrupted hastily. "I do. I mean it, not _right_ now but sometime… I… I don't want to die a virgin."

"Where is all this coming from? This morning you could barely stand the sight of me and now… well it's sudden, wouldn't you say?"

"Ginny sometimes used to tease me because I'd never done it-"

"Had sex." he corrected.

"Yes-"

"No, say it. You need to be able to say it before you can 'do it' as you so bluntly put it. So start that sentence again and this time use the correct word."

The urge to hit him for being so commanding and teacher like was very much alive inside her, Merlin, he sounded so much like Professor Snape at that moment, Hermione thought.

She also knew he was right.

She needed to say the word before she _did it._

"Okay," she let out with a deep sigh. "Ginny sometimes used to tease me because I'd never had _sex_ and after I nearly died today, I realised there were lots of things I hadn't done and I just thought that… you might like to…"

Lucius almost laughed at her shyness. He could see that her cheeks were flushed bright red. "I think you know that I'd like to," he couldn't help the smirk and hoped that she wouldn't find it too intimidating. "But I'd like you to tell me what you want while looking into my eyes."

"Why?"

"Because then I'll know whether you mean it or not."

Hermione inhaled deeply, breathing in confidence and hoping that her shy nature wouldn't get in the way. She turned her head up, looked him directly in the eyes and said in clipped tones, "I want to have sex with you."

Lucius knew she had struggled with saying that but from what her eyes told him; she meant it.

"I have one condition."

"And that is?"

"We do things slowly."

He nodded, almost wanting to sob at her suggestion.

"We'll start with this."

And then he kissed her.

If Hermione had thought that having Lucius Malfoy holding her in the forest was surreal then this was an entire new meaning of that word.

He kissed her mouth in a delightfully soft and tender gesture, tracing his tongue languidly over her lower lip, asking for the entrance he so desperately wanted.

She complied with a silent moan and parted her lips, allowing him entrance.

Hermione didn't hesitate and before she even knew what she was doing she kissed him back. She knew how to kiss, had done it many times but this man made the kisses of Viktor Krum or Ron Weasley seem like chaste goodnight kisses compared to this kiss. Lucius Malfoy was experienced, she could tell that much.

There was no touching, apart from tongues and lips as their mutual agreement was shown with the carnal action.

But then it was over. Lucius pulled away, knowing that her wantonness would be building deep inside and he planned to show her more the next time.

Much more.

Hermione whimpered silently when his lips were no longer connected with hers, she wanted the warmth and comfort in the kiss to stay in her forever.

She'd just kissed Lucius Malfoy but she couldn't care less.

"Tomorrow," he breathed seductively into her ear, bringing a rush of saliva to Hermione's mouth. "I will show you more than that, Hermione."

And then he moved away from her, back to his own bed to snuggle under the covers and get some much deserved rest.

Hermione did the same, knowing that her dreams would be filled with Lucius Malfoy tonight.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__Okay so I hope that you don't think that it's a little sudden that in the beginning she hated him and now she has actually agreed to have sex with him but I figured that her little run-in with the zombie brought them closer. Like in (if anyone's ever seen it) The Blue Lagoon where they argue and hate each other but then after the girl nearly dies they get closer and eventually have sex, blah blah blah… Well imagine it a bit like that. Only with Lucius and Hermione and not on a desert island ;)_

_Anyway, enough crap from me. I'd like to apologise for how long it's taken to get this up and to thank everyone who takes the time to read this story :)_


	9. Newfound Delights

_**A/N: **__I feel the need to warn you that there is M rated material in this chapter. But if you can handle that, then please do enjoy ;D_

* * *

><p>::-::-:: <strong>Chapter 9<strong> ::-::-::

Hermione, like always, was the first to wake. She tiptoed into the kitchen, put the kettle on with a lazy flourish of her wand and sat on an unyielding wooden stool, waiting.

Waiting for what, however, she didn't know.

Lucius? A repeat of the previous night? A replay of her dreams, depicting her idea of what could have been, had Lucius not broken the kiss?

A tingling jolt spread throughout her body, accumulating in her stomach and flowing in a lustrous wave that extended to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She felt her cheeks turning hotter and, no doubt, brighter in colour as she recognised the same feeling from their first encounter in the kitchen and the kiss they'd shared the night before.

It felt as alien to Hermione as their little… arrangement, but she didn't pretend to not know what the feeling was… She knew all too well, even if she had experienced it just two limited was the butterflies of _lust_ inside her.

She had felt it last night, during and after their kiss, but she'd been unable to relieve herself of the almost agonising sensation. All they'd shared was a kiss; his lips on hers, nothing more, nothing less. But lust had made itself present and had left her body with a torturous need for more. _Much_ more.

Was it a lie to say that it had been… _perfect?_

It sounded like one, and it also sounded like a cliché. A silly, irritating, pathetic cliché, rather like the ones she was used to hearing in her Hogwarts dormitory. She had grown up listening to the likes of Lavender Brown boasting of her _perfect kisses_ with Seamus Finnigan or whoever was daft enough to be swept into a sloppy snog with her. Thankfully, Hermione had never heard the misfortune of Miss Brown expressing her love of kissing Ron Weasely.

And that was another thing. Ron seemed to have morphed into a man twenty years his age, with haunting grey eyes and an obscene amount of silky blond locks. Lucius Malfoy was the one she'd kissed, not Ronald Weasley. Not her freckly, red-headed best friend; the person she thought she had loved for what seemed like eons and who she had once believed would be the father of her children. Oh no. She had kissed a man known to the world for his hatred of Mudbloods, Muggles and anything he deemed lesser than himself, a man who was almost twice her age and whom she had once hated.

A man she found herself liking more and more…

But, casting the imperfections to one side, everything about that moment had been _perfect_ and Hermione was not in the mood for her mind to be telling her any different.

The niggling voices never ceased their chances of bringing her back to sensibility. They made themselves noticed at ungodly times at night, coaxing her from a much needed sleep and whispering things with the sole intention of stopping all contact with Lucius Malfoy. _What would Harry and Ron think of this? Or your parents? The man hates you! He does not want you for anything other than a warm body to shag!_

It was always the same ideas and before she could even think of following the truth in some of them, the lust had driven all logical thoughts away.

Of course, there was a small flutter of nervousness in her stomach, churning her insides to a buttery mush as her cheeks become flushed a healthy pink. But nervousness was all there was. No matter how hard she tried, Hermione could not bring herself to feel an ounce of shame.

And she didn't even care.

Besides, where was the logic and sensible happenings in the world? If the world outside was unpredictable and unlikely, then why couldn't her time with Lucius Malfoy be the same?

She smiled to herself, switching off the gas when a screaming sort of whistle sounded through the little cottage, signalling that the kettle had reached an abrupt boil.

The room grew hotter, Hermione noticed, but it wasn't the boiling steam from the kettle.

Lucius strode into the kitchen, eyes roaming over the three quarters of creamy pale flesh that her nightgown didn't hide.

Hermione could feel her eyes upon him, but decided that she wasn't going to let it get to her.

What good would that do, after all?

But all sense of calmness, however, quickly diminished the moment she looked into those eyes and flashes of looking into them the previous night came back to her.

_Sweet Merlin's balls, we kissed! I kissed Lucius Malfoy! Lucius Malfoy! Circe, help me!_

She panicked and spun around in a flash of curls, her face growing several shades redder and threatening to ruin everything.

What was she thinking, not being _nervous? _She was _terrified_ of the prospect of… well, everything! Why had she agreed to do it? And to think that they had kissed last night!

_For goodness sake! I need to calm down. It was a kiss, it's not like we had sex… yet._

She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping it would wash away the sudden panic that was rioting in her mind. Her chocolate brown orbs concentrated on the sway of the trees and the passing clouds; anything to distract her from the man behind her.

Lucius could see the effort it took her not to abandon him in the kitchen and dear Merlin did he desperately not want that to happen. She'd already run away from him once and he was not willing to let it happen again.

He took a step towards her, carefully placing a hand next to hers, but not touching, on the cold kitchen counter.

He could sense the blush he knew she would be wearing. "What are you scared of, Miss Granger?" he asked, breathing in her scent.

Hermione shook her head, staring blankly at the wall behind Lucius. "I don't know. I guess it's more of the _unknown_. I-I'm worried that I won't be able to… _you know_…"

Lucius chuckled softly. "I very much doubt that."

She turned around slowly and looked into his grey eyes, seeing how they glistened in the morning sunlight. "Really?"

He almost snorted. _For goodness sake girl, you're going to be having sex with Lucius Malfoy, you'll learn very quickly._ It was probably for the best that he answered with a simple, "Yes."

He pictured a sudden image; Miss Granger's ruffled nightgown pulled up to her waist, her eyes dark and wide as he spread those supple thighs and braced her against the worktop, and pounded into her over and over… and those beautiful little gasps she'd made when he'd touched her before would be all that fell from those lips…

The lips that were currently parted in thought, her rose bud tongue swiping across the lower petal, wetting it oh so temptingly.

He almost groaned, blissfully aware of the hardness that had long since expanded in the confines of his trousers.

He wondered what her hand would feel like wrapped around his cock, or those wet, hot lips-

_What are you seventeen again? Get a grip, old boy!_

Lucius thought that he was going to shrivel up and die in the heat of his need, but as Hermione brushed passed him, announcing that she was going to check on the charms, he was certain that he would explode if he didn't have her soon.

But it would seem that he would have to wait. And for now, he was going for a long, hot shower.

* * *

><p><em>"Protego Totalum... Repello Muggletum<em>..." Hermione whispered the final incantations as the magic welded into an invisible bubble surrounding the little cottage from the terror that lurked beyond.

She was pleasantly surprised that that her charms had, so far, succeeded in keeping out any intruders. For such a Dark Curse, one would assume that those creatures would be able to penetrate even the simplest of charms, but all they really seemed to be interested in was ripping their victims alive.

They were rather unintelligent and how the Death Eaters were supposed to control such a world was beyond her.

Not that she really cared about such a thing. She'd had enough of Voldemort and Death Eaters to last her a life time.

_So why are you with one then? _A little voice chirped in her head.

She frowned; just how many times did she have to answer such questions? Lucius was no longer a Death Eater. Wasn't that obvious enough? _He_ had the power to kill her for what she was, with or without magic, but was she dead yet? No. Could she have hoped for the same treatment during the war or from any other Death Eater? Most definitely not. He would have most likely done anything to her for the sole intent of getting back into Voldemort's good books and even so that would have been for his family, to ensure their survival.

_And you'd kill for your family, would you?_

_Arghh!_ Would the battle with her mind _ever_ come to an end?

With a huffed sigh, Hermione stormed back into the house, intending to take a nice, warm bath and calm her mind.

She slammed her wand down on the table and proceeded to pull off the heavy winter coat she had, in every practical sense, 'borrowed' from whoever it belonged to before.

Hermione walked in a humble silence to the bathroom, past the rooms she had mentally declared as her next cleaning targets, before finally standing face to face with the slightly faded bathroom door.

A long groan stopped Hermione from pulling the handle downwards, instead her hand gripped at the door handle as if it were frozen to the metal.

_Oh God! What if there's one of those creatures in there?_

But that seemed like a rather stupid question to ask seeing how, moments before, she had re-cast the spells around the house and there was little to no chance of _anything_ setting foot within.

And there it was again. Another moan; this time louder, more drawn out. Not at all sounding like some fleshing eating zombie.

_So what _is_ happening in there?_

Of course, Hermione was completely unaware that her blond male cohort was the cause of the strange sounds, and that she would be invading his privacy by storming in to check he wasn't being gnawed to death by one of them.

She threw the door open and gasped, dropping her mouth in utter shock as Lucius Malfoy stood gloriously naked beneath a stream of steaming hot water, hand fisting his _very_ aroused member.

_Sweet Merlin! He's… he's…_

It was now very obvious what had been happening behind the bathroom door and Hermione was nothing short of being embarrassed and rather humiliated. She hated the heat that was pouring into her cheeks and was certain that, given the right amount of time and practice, she _would_ get her obnoxious blushing habit under control.

Hermione took everything in from top to bottom; starting with the soaked blond locks that were slicked back and plastered down his back, a back which was, by no means, lacking in splendour; on the opposite side a pale chest that was defined by the contours of his muscles. And below his God-like upper body was his equally as God-like lower body. The globes of his arse were round and taut; and his legs were shaped with a thick layer of hard muscle. It would seem that Lucius Malfoy's age certainly hadn't taken its toll on his appearance.

And – she suddenly felt weak at the knees – his erection, large and pronounced, even when tightly encased in his fist.

It was when Lucius felt a cool blast of air scrape across his naked flesh that he turned around, only to find a crimson faced Miss Granger staring at his most private parts.

_It would seem that the bookworm of Hogwarts wasn't such a prude after all…_

He felt a strong sense of masculine pride deep within his bones knowing that just a glimpse of himself would have her drooling. Or at least he hoped she was…

And she was blushing. A blind person could see that.

Lucius could not stop the smirk that morphed onto his face, but then again, when could he ever? "Enjoying the view?" he asked, teasingly, knowing the girl had not even been aware that he'd noticed she was watching him. For almost… one minute now, it would seem.

Whatever kind of trance Hermione had been in, she was pulled out of it with a lurch of her stomach when she heard that deep rumble of a voice.

_Oh Merlin, no…  
><em>  
>"I-I…" Her mind was scattered. How was she <em>ever<em> going to look at him the same way again? She was certain that he could be wearing the heaviest and darkest of clothes and she would still be able to envision him in his birthday suit and map out every contour of muscle, milky scar and patches of hair– God, just how long _had_ she been staring at him?

She hoped that the world would just upon up and swallow her, anything but have to deal with the humiliating consequences her eyes had caused for her.

She turned to walk out and leave Lucius to his… shower, not to mention drowning herself in a bowl of water.

"Don't leave," he said sternly, but in a voice that made Hermione feel as though she were being spoon fed treacle. "Stay."

And somehow she didn't need telling twice. The door closed behind her with a loud bang, and it was then that she realised she was still in the bathroom with her heart pounding in sound to the footsteps she took forward.

_What are you doing? _

_What are you doing? _

_What are you doing? _

The words ran through her mind on repeat, asking over and over like some form of jammed record player; a mantra of a question she had no intention of answering.

And she didn't.

Hermione was partial to resume her staring at his body, she figured all was lost now anyway, and if she had chosen to be in the same room as him, she may as well _look_ at him. And the sublime looking cock that so obviously stood to attention. She admired the little hair that could be found there, a shade darker than that on his head and the numerous veiny ridges and contours. His endowment was lengthy and thick, head flushed a healthy pink with blood and dripping wet from the shower.

She didn't have to be a nymphomaniac to know what Lucius Malfoy had been accomplishing while she had been outside.

That _would_ explain the low moans and grunts, after all.

Even if he wasn't quite finished yet…

She swallowed tightly as Lucius stepped out of the shower, his cock bobbing as he came towards her, a trail of warm water dripping languidly onto the floorboards.

"You're not going to run away this time, are you, Miss Granger?" he asked, voice dripping in arousal and was that seduction?

Hermione licked her lip deftly and looked into the man's eyes; heavy lidded, dark and moist.

She shook her head and let out a very quiet, "No."

His arousal before was pathetic to what he was feeling now.

He slipped a hand behind her curls and onto the nape of her neck and held her still for his lips to descend upon hers. Lucius almost sobbed in delight when he felt her tongue lick at the seam of his lips, asking for the entrance that he would not, in any way, shape or form, turn down. Her tongue slipped into his eager mouth, timid yet attentive; exploring and learning his mouth from the inside; tooth by tooth, side by side.

His frantic hands gripped her harder, pulling her further into him and Hermione gasped into the kiss when she felt his raging hard-on poke against her belly, but his soft, yielding, sultry mouth stifled any thoughts of halting.

Their kiss ended, eliciting a whimpering sigh of _more_ from Hermione. Her wantonness shocked her, scared her even, but she wasn't going to let her bookish tendencies get the better of her now. She shamelessly wrapped her arms around those broad, pale shoulders, rubbing her jean covered hips against his erection.

Perhaps it was best that she was still dressed – for now.

Lucius unhooked one of the hands from his shoulder and brought it lower, pressing the tiny hand flat against his solid stomach. He could feel her trembling beneath him and he leaned forward, tracing her cheek with a free hand. "Don't be scared," he murmured in a kind of softness Hermione never knew was possible for him.

But even his words couldn't help the twisting in her stomach and Hermione thought for a moment that the butterflies inside her were trying to burst out of her chest.

Slowly, almost tenderly, he moved their hands down together. Hermione could feel the ripples of his stomach, the wiriness of his pubic hair and finally, his hardened length, hot and hard in her hand.

He gave one, two, three pumps of his hand, her own concealed beneath his as a sort of guidance, although Lucius held onto the incentive that she wouldn't need him the entire time.

And when he took his hand away her touch was that of pure concentration and exploration of his sensitive male parts rolled into one. She started slow and innocent, feeling the rough and wiry hair at the base; the ridge feeling the ridge of each vein; running her hand up to the shiny, swollen tip, flushed an angry red and secreting a glistening liquid. Her hand moved back down the thick shaft, stroking and squeezing sensually. She moved down lower again and wasn't sure whether he wanted her to touch him there, whether it was normal to fondle the heavy softness of his testicles in her hands.

His gasp was answer enough and morphed her concern into a smile of triumphant delight as she gave the heavy sac a light squeeze, rubbing the sensitive flesh together and feeling them tighten in her hold before starting the cycle again; _base, shaft, tip, shaft, balls._

Hermione wasn't sure where she was getting the sudden ability – perhaps it was to do with her own feminine subconscious that was telling her what to do without her knowing – but she was certain that _whatever_ she was doing, she was doing it good and thorough. She always had been a quick learner.

Lucius couldn't help but moan a string of obscenities into her ear shortly followed my mumbles of, "Harder," or "Faster," and Hermione obeyed. He sucked in a fast breath of anticipation, clenching his eyes shut as her petite hand worked him into a torturous desire to come. He'd never, in all his life, needed to come so much as he did at that particular moment. And when she squeezed his bollocks so sublimely, he was sure he would explode from the inside as sparks of heat jolted his body.

After using only a hand for almost a month – albeit his _own_ hand – things were starting to get monotonous and he'd been in dire need of something different to satisfy his carnal need. But _this_, this beautiful, tactile hand working his cock into a frenzy, well he could never have imagined a handjob would feel _this_ good.

Lucius felt sweat running down his neck, back, forehead – or was it still water? Who cared? His mind wouldn't function normally. He was sure he would be able to forget his own name his she kept this up.

Listening to the grunts and feeling the shudders of Lucius seemed to bring back the wonderful sensation in the pit of her stomach, a sort of tingle that flooded her thighs with a rush of heat. The tingle grew into a gnawing itch with every gasp elicited from his mouth and a smirk grew simultaneously on her face.

To think that _she_ was the one doing that to him. Her satisfaction added to the heat between her legs.

She kept her hands moving; pumping up and down, again and again, occasionally lingering on the tip and wiping the liquid secreted with her thumb. He would give an involuntary thrust of his hips every time she did so, so she did it more and more frequently, and eventually Lucius had no control over the savage thrusting of his hips.

Lucius clenched his eyes shut as he could hold on no longer. He dug his nails harshly into the girl, dropping his mouth wide in a hoarse cry of fervent ecstasy. His whole body shook in absolute pleasure as he groaned into her neck.

Hermione, worried that she had hurt him, stilled her movements, only to find her hand was suddenly coated in a sticky wetness; thick, warm and creamy. And she suddenly found herself at a point of disadvantage; did he want her to lap up the syrupy semen from her hand? Should she wash it? _Not_ wash it for the time being?

She was above asking Lucius such a pathetic question and she finally got an answer when Lucius scooped a nearby towel from the floor and gently made gentle wiping movements over her hand, soaking all traces of the white liquid into the towel.

Hermione remained silent as she gazed into Lucius' eyes, feeling his breathing heavy against her forehead. His body was almost limp and pushing her heavily into the wall, but she didn't tell him otherwise because she was rather fond of the closeness.

A long while later he spoke. "If you would excuse me, I'll be out in a moment." And then he stepped back underneath the jet of water that was still running from the shower.

Hermione couldn't think straight as her wobbly legs somehow managed to walk her out of the bathroom and sit her down onto a couch. Every question that zoomed through her mind was laced with a menacing 'what it?' that she was certain was threatening to ruin everything. It was difficult enough to resist the urge to run into the larder and lock herself inside so she would never have to see Lucius again.

_No! I will not do that! How can we get the world back if I keep myself locked in a cupboard all day?_

But everything seemed so different and surreal. Even now, after she'd only touched him in… _that_ _place_, Hermione was certain that things wouldn't – _couldn't_ – go back to normal! Simply too much had changed within the space of just a few minutes.

But surely the feeling would be the same with anyone? Ron, Harry, even Cormac McLaggen? No, most _certainly_ Cormac McLaggen! Hermione was certain she would have the same reaction with them as she was having now.

And it was _not_ regret she was feeling. Far from it. She wanted to discover more of this strange feminine instinct that was beginning to uncover; she wanted the power she had had mere minutes ago to send Lucius Malfoy's entire body shaking in pleasure _she_ could give him; she wanted him to show her _more._

No, it most certainly was not regret, but something she really, _really_ could not place her finger on; something foreign and most certainly unknown to her.

Perhaps it was something to be discovered with time.

* * *

><p>Lucius walked into the room finding the girl sitting demurely on a couch and could see that her skin was still flushed with a ripe tinge of red.<p>

It was rather obvious what she was thinking about and he smirked with satisfaction.

He perched himself next to her gently.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

He moved in closer, smelling the sweat that mingled with her delicious feminine scent and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. "Tell me what you feel?"

Hermione swallowed carefully. "I feel like I did when you kissed me yesterday, hot inside and light headed. A bit dizzy."

He kissed her cheek lightly, moving his lips across the sensitive skin on her face with small presses of his lips. She could feel the stubble tickling.

"Tell me what you want?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a steady breath to help calm her nerves. She could barely register a single thought in her head, let alone answer his question.

After a trail of kisses along her jaw, she managed to answer. "I want… I want you to make me feel like you did."

Lucius wound both hands up her top and under her brassiere, feeling those glorious breasts that he ached to see, the hardened nipples that engorged beneath his hands crying out for his attention.

He kneaded both soft globes lightly. And there it was. Her little, needy mewl of delight. It was like the most beautiful piece of music to his ears and he would stop at nothing to hear it again.

Hermione felt all clothing disappear, save for her pearly white knickers, with a mumbled something from Lucius. The cool air had no effect on her blazing skin and the hands on her thighs only added to the heat and dewy sweat already forming on her body, as they slipped deliciously up and down, making circular movements just below the place that was oh-so alive with euphoria.

Lucius reached his hands down, pushing her underwear past her thighs and hooking it from her ankles before she was laid fully bare before him; allowing his eyes to drink in the curve of soft hips, the flat belly and pert breasts that heaved with every breath.

Did he really have to take things slowly? He wanted to have _all_ of her at that moment.

Placing open mouthed kisses to her neck and chest, Lucius ran a hand gently up her right leg, pulling it away from its twin and parting them a delicious amount that would allow his hand to fit snugly into the crux between her legs. He almost gasped in amazement when he felt the girl beneath him open them further, giving him the access _she_ so desperately wanted; _needed._

He kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, as his hand slipped to the place no man had ever touched before and toyed with the curls found there. He gave her a look she could not mistake as anything but approval and Hermione responded with a firm 'Yes'.

Her body was buzzing with a pleasure far too great for her mind to take control of.

She gave a mewl of delight, her hands gripping tightly at the loose material of his shirt, pulling and almost ripping the fabric as she felt his fingers brush against the place that brought an array of new senses humming inside her body. Fingers swept north and south, sliding in the wetness, parting her folds, stroking and moving further upwards to collide with the burning nub.

Hermione thought she may explode as Lucius scraped his fingers across said swollen nub, bringing a jolt of pleasure so intense her hips arced up and into his fingers. Lucius smiled against her skin, she was a needy one indeed.

Hermione closed her eyes forcefully at the breach of her inner walls; surprised to find that the pain she expected was completely overwhelmed by the powerful feelings of euphoria. Slowly, so as not to shock her, Lucius added another finger and the two of them danced inside her, bringing her closer and closer to her release with long, powerful strokes of a tender spot that caused her legs to melt under the brilliant pressure of it all.

She'd heard of the wonderful feelings and such from friends and girls in her dormitory at Hogwarts, but _never_ could she have imagined that a man could do something as _good_ as this with only fingers.

Hermione wasn't sure how much she could take, but when she felt a thumb prod at the little nubbin between her legs, she couldn't keep her hips from moving upwards as she felt her body shatter into one million tiny fragments, opening her mouth in delirium and sobbing her release.

Lucius plunged his fingers over and over, whispering against her ear, "Come for me, witch. Yes, that's it, come for me, come for me…"

Before she could even think about her actions, Hermione pulled Lucius to her, his head resting on her bare chest with his damp hair clinging to her dewy skin. They lay together for an age, neither moving nor speaking. Hermione couldn't help thinking about how unlikely this all would have seemed one year ago, or how it still didn't seem a likely thing for the pair of them to be doing.

Hermione wanted to stroke his hair, thank him for bringing her to something she could never have imagined but before she could do either, Lucius let out a gasp, quickly pulling away from the girl who laid panting and sweating on the sofa.

Hermione sounded her confusion with a small gasp of her own. "What's the matter? Did I… do something wrong?"

Lucius gazed at her with an expression so hard it was like an invisible mask of steel had been placed over the joyous features that had been there just moments ago. "Get dressed now." he mumbled.

"_W-what?" _Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach, painfully.

_Get dressed now._ How could he? After everything she had just let him do to her… After _everything_ she had made herself believe about him; everything she had forced her mind to deny and now he was casting her aside, as if he was trying to fool himself into believing that nothing had happened! Is that how _little_ this meant to him?

Hermione fought the urge to slap her face and call herself a whore.

_How could he?_

Feeling her eyes brimming with tears, she forced a chocked, "_Why?"_

Lucius turned to her and there was no hiding the fear blazing in his eyes.

"My dark mark. It's burning."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ CLIFF HANGER! _

_Now for a long authors note…_

_I'm so sorry that the time it took to update this was ridiculous! I really can't apologize enough for that and I hope I haven't lost any readers…_

_So… I had intended to do soft sex scenes (or in this case, foreplay without sex ;D) but I think I strayed away from that idea and decided to go for a totally M rated scene xD I know that some people will be (over the moon!) okay with this but others might not and so I'm sorry if you're one of them but I thought 'screw it! I need to practice getting my sex scenes up to top notch anyway!'_

_Tbh, I'm really not that happy with this chapter for reasons I'm not even too sure of and I really hope the next one will be better._

_I'd like to mention DZAuthor AKA DZMom for a helpful prompt. You reviewed once and suggested Hermione walking in on 'Lucius' hand cranking' which, I'll admit, is where I got that idea from so thank you very much for that idea ;) And also for mentioning that I was a little brief with how they protected the cottage also helped me see sense. I was too lazy to go back and write it into another chapter so I used the excuse with this one. Thank you again for that and I hope you feel more satisfied to know how they did it (even if it was still a little brief, but I didn't want to go into too much detail!)._

_Omg. I just realised how long this A/N was!_


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